but i did this during work which is an experience one should not have

Last year I decided that I needed a job to work alongside my studies. Got a job at the Mc place, in the kitchen. At the same time as I started there my grandmother died, and she lived in another country and it takes around 12 hours to get there, and the planes went just every other day. Which meant I had to take time off.

At this point they had scheduled me at really odd times, during lunch hour rush despite them knowing I was a full time student, and scheduled me for 17-20 hours a week instead of the 8 that was in my contract. I had said I could work a little extra *if they needed me to*, but I apparently wasn’t clear enough. I knew that as soon as I returned from the funeral I would need to ask them to give me less hours, or at least not every single day time so I missed all my classes. Trading shifts was a pain in the ass, especially when I was new and didn’t know anyone. They also made me stay later so often, and once when I had plans and told them exactly that I had to leave when my shift was over because x thing, they still kept on coming back to make me stay. If I’d been a young kid I’d probably thought I HAD to stay, but this time I couldn’t.

I returned from the funeral and my mental health was down the drain. I was behind in school, grieving my grandmother, was stressed about the traveling, and that on top of work was a cocktail than ended up with me getting sick. A stomach bug. Before I got sick I had the opportunity to meet the lovely new supervisor. She replaced a guy who genuinely loved his job and was great at it. When she got even a little stressed she would yell at everyone. She yelled at a boy working his first shift because he placed the burgers in the wrong order during a rush, for ex.

I get very confusing directives when I call in sick. They’d already skipped a lot of my training, and hadn’t gone over the sick routine, so I suspected it was the same as my other jobs (health care and customer service). This wasn’t my first, second, or third job. I’m a “senior student”. Nope. Basically I misunderstood when they said “call everyday before the shift”, despite that I had a stomach bug and knew that I was out did minimum two days. They knew I wasn’t working the day after. Still has to call in for that shift. You are also entitled to up to a week as sick before you need a doctor’s note here in my country.

Because of my anxiety it sometimes messes with my stomach. I didn’t know at first if I was over it or not. So I called in for a 4th day sick since I wasn’t 48hrs post symptoms. Which is the hygiene routine, and I refuse to work in a place that skimps on that and I would’ve reported them if they did. I had 6 years in health care, so I knew.

It ended up with me being cussed out on the phone because they hadn’t given me information on the sick routine, that there was no way I was still sick. I apologized and said I’d misunderstood, but that I’m not yet 48hrs without symptoms so I can’t work. But I knew I wasn’t contagious the next day, so I’d come in then. I worked in the kitchen ffs! She proceeded to ask me “how the f could you think that?” (I.e call in this way) about four or five times and I would explain the same thing over and over again, that it had been a misunderstanding and I apologized etc. until I snapped and told her “I’ve told you why already”.

She then said I was on suspension until I had seen a doctor. I asked what I should do after I see one, and after I got the info I hung up before she got anything else out. I knew I wasn’t lying. I knew I was in the right.

After I hung up I e-mailed the manager and gave my 2 weeks notice, and asked what I should do with the rest of my shifts since I was suspended. After the weekend (this was on a Friday) the supervisor called me to apologize. Only she started the call with yelling at me because I didn’t answer when she called, but I called her right back. I’d been carrying my sibling’s luggage off a train. She then apologized, said I wasn’t suspended.

I worked another week there, but my anxiety was so bad because it was so stressful to see her there everyday. It’s difficult to convey how bad she is though this short story, but she was terrible. The last week I called in sick because my anxiety medication didn’t even help at all. The last week I worked they didn’t allow me lunch break on day because they had planned the staffing so badly. They knew I was leaving so they didn’t give an f.

When I called in the last week I made it a point to say “I’m sick, I know I won’t be better in time for my last shift, do I have to call before every shift?” Yes, I had to. So supervisor had to talk to me everyday, and then I was free.

In all my work places, all my superiors I’ve had, none were as terrible people as she. She had the ability to make you feel like dog shit for any small infraction or inconvenience. Since I knew that I would be treated better anywhere else I left quickly. I feel bad for the kids there, though, who will think that kind of talk is normal.

I ended up almost not being able to graduate on time because of how they scheduled me. Never again will I believe an employer will be respectful towards their employee. I’d had fantastic experiences up until then with employers.

anonymous asked:

What do you think would have happened if Alloran somehow morphed in book 8 so he stopped dying of snake poison and escaped the Yeerks and the Animorphs ended up hanging out with a ruthless, terrifying war prince?

  • Ax is safe from controllers for the moment, which is why Marco lumbers over to where Visser Three’s host is lying on the ground.  <Come on,> he snaps, dragging the half-dead andalite upright.  <Either morph and help us fight, or wait around like a useless lump for the yeerks to start using you again.  Dying heroically doesn’t solve anything.>
    • As he speaks, Rachel swipes a grizzly paw into the river.  Almost casually, she flattens the small grey-green body onto the ground until it pops with a squelch.
    • The andalite host starts to protest Marco’s attempts to yank him away, but by then Rachel and Ax have both come over to drag him to safety as well, and he gives in.  He morphs, some kind of bird with way too many wings and a razor-sharp beak, and follows them.
  • Unbeknownst to the newly freed War-Prince Alloran-Semitur-Corrass, an intense debate rages throughout the entire forty-minute flight back to Ax’s scoop.  Marco doesn’t think they should trust him with anything until they have more information.  Rachel cannot wait to get him on board, given how much fighting experience he must have.  Cassie thinks that they should wait and see what Alloran wants, whereas Tobias insists that if Ax worked out this well then Alloran will too.  Jake and Ax, as always, stay out of the debate.
    • Until the moment of decision comes, that is.  And then Jake, as they’re landing on the ground, says <We can’t keep it from him forever.  Might as well see how he reacts right now,> and the issue is decided.  As one, they begin to demorph.
    • As it turns out, how he reacts is with about two and a half minutes of incredulous silence, staring at all six of them at once.  Even the human Animorphs can tell that if he had a mouth, it would be hanging open.
    • And then he bursts out laughing.
    • Cassie flinches, because it’s still Visser Three’s laugh, but after a second she finds herself relaxing.  The andalite has his face buried in one hand, shoulders shaking with that silent laughter, in a way that is distinctly unvisserish.  “Yeah,” she says, spreading her arms out apologetically.  “We’re human.  Most of us, anyway.”
    • <Human children,> he says slowly.  <Who destroyed the ground-based Kandrona.  Who annihilated a veleek.> He continues to stare at all of them—and then both stalk eyes focus on Ax.  <This is Elfangor’s doing, isn’t it?> he asks.
    • Ax shifts in place, one hoof kicking nervously against the ground.  <He made a choice of desperation in his last moments of life.>
    • <Of course he gave away our most precious technology to a group of humans.> The andalite prince seems almost fond, underneath the exasperation.  <Of course he did.>
    • <You knew Prince Elfangor?> Tobias asks.
    • <Yes, and I know he wouldn’t have left you without a prince if he’d had a choice in the matter.> The andalite straightens, shaking out his tail.  <But no matter.  I can take on that responsibility now.  My name is War-Prince Alloran-Semitur-Corrass, and I am here to help you.  Dismissed, arisths.  Return to this place at the seventh hour of the Earthly time system tomorrow.  In the meantime, I have many questions for Aristh Aximili.>
  • They all go, mostly because it doesn’t seem worth fighting him about, although Marco grumbles about it the whole way home.  Jake broods on the issue for the rest of the afternoon, wondering if it would be for the best for him simply to hand over leadership.  He barely even notices when Tom’s gone for almost the entire day—some emergency at the Sharing, allegedly—and he doesn’t arrive at an easy answer.
  • Things don’t come to a head until a couple weeks later, when Alloran flatly refuses to listen to Cassie’s concerns about the potential for logging in the woods where the andalites and Tobias live.  <It’s a pity about the trees, yes, but it is not our concern right now,> Alloran says impatiently.  <We need to focus on taking out the empire’s top vissers while the power vacuum from Esplin’s death remains unfilled.  This silly worry about the local land is just one more distraction—>
    • “I don’t think it’s silly.”  Jake speaks quietly, but his voice is firm.
    • <Be that as it may.> Alloran flicks his tail dismissively. <I know the yeerks, and as the ranking officer—>
    • “Let’s get something straight, bub.”  Marco steps up to stand at Jake’s left shoulder, looking halfway shocked at his own daring.  “I’ve only got one prince, and it’s this loser right here.”  He nudges Jake with his elbow. 
    • <Excuse me?>  Alloran’s whole body has gone stiff.  Marco looks very small where he stands staring Alloran down.
    • “Look,” Rachel says, “Jake hasn’t led us wrong yet.  No offense, but we don’t know you.  We don’t trust you.  Jake’s one of us, and if you two don’t agree… We’re gonna go with Jake.”  She crosses her arms, stepping forward to stand behind Marco.
    • <It’s not that we think you’re wrong,> Tobias offers, more gently.  <It’s just…> He flares, landing gently on Rachel’s shoulder.  <Well, Jake’s got a point that Cassie’s got a point.>
    • Ax doesn’t say a word.  He just takes three steps, until he is standing directly behind Jake’s right shoulder. 
    • The silence while they wait for Alloran’s response seems to last for years.  The only one who looks more surprised by all this than Alloran is Jake himself.
    • <Very well,> Alloran says at last.  <Prince Jake,> —and if there’s a hint of mockery to the title, they choose not to notice— <it seems you have won the unflinching loyalty of every one of your warriors.  That is commendation enough for me.  What is it you suggest we do?>
  • They work out an arrangement of sorts, wherein Jake is their field commander but Alloran gives them a lot of advice in their down time.  Marco might grumble about “school all day, then homework, then what do we do with our tiny amounts of spare time? Oh goody, more homework!” but the truth is that most of what Alloran teaches them is useful.  He drills them on morphing fast, morphing smoothly, morphing without losing control, and they all improve to the point where the others can almost—almost—match Cassie in skill.  
    • Under his tutelage they all learn the frolis maneuver to combine sets of DNA from the same species, which means that, through mixing Alloran’s DNA with Ax’s, they can each develop a unique andalite morph.  Their subsequent set of andalites might look like very closely-related siblings, but at least the morphs enable them to maintain the illusion that they are all andalite bandits.
    • Tobias becomes the last one to get an andalite shape, during the frantic period of catch-up after he regains the ability to morph.  He uses more of Ax’s DNA than Alloran’s, and the subsequent form ends up (whether by accident or deliberately) looking startlingly like Elfangor.
    • Alloran is not a particularly patient or kind teacher, but he does get results from all of them as he snaps at them time after time that their best attempts are not good enough and won’t be until every one of them can master rodent shapes without losing control.  He and Marco butt heads on a fairly regular basis, and Rachel has been known to stomp away from his biting criticism in a fit of rage, but they always learn to get along in the end.  And they learn not just morphing tricks, but how to fight with tail blades and guns and knives and stolen dracon beams.  They study past battles, and learn ways to do better.  Alloran gives them no rest, but he also keeps them alive.
    • It’s odd, Ax thinks, and Alloran would probably deny it if asked, but he seems to be more patient with Tobias.  It might just be his awareness that Tobias came to the game later than any of the others, or even some degree of sympathy for all nothlits, but Alloran is far less inclined to snap at Tobias’s small mistakes.  He shows almost as much concern for Tobias’s well-being as Jake or Cassie might, which is strange when Alloran himself is also “roughing it” (as Marco would say) out in the woods.
  • Under Visser One’s influence, the invasion of Earth grows terrifying new tendrils.  Politicians in state capitols and even the White House start scheduling mysterious appointments once every three days.  The Sharing gains official nonprofit status, and opens chapters in every state in the country.  Voluntary hosts get offered power and wealth and fame in the New Yeerk Order if they will just agree to give up their bodies for a few years while the revolution occurs.  Alloran insists that Edriss is five times the strategist Esplin ever was, and pretty soon they all agree with him.
  • Jake isn’t the only one to notice that Alloran returns to the construction site where Elfangor died, but he is the only one brave enough to ask about it.  It just happens one time that Jake’s walking home and sees a very familiar young man (comprised of DNA that has bits of Mr. Tidwell and Visser Three’s human shape and the Animorphs themselves) leaning against the chain link fence to look at the abandoned earthmovers.
    • Alloran hesitates for a long time after Jake voices the question, but at last he explains.  “Elfangor was flying a damaged fighter, injured, in trouble…  Any sensible prince would have returned to his Dome ship, or at least sought his companions’ assistance.  Instead, he came—”  He gestures toward the fence.  “Here.”
    • Jake looks over at him.  “You think Elfangor was trying to do something.  Other than give us the power to morph, that is.”
    • “I think he was looking for something,” Alloran says.  “Or someone.  The only person he’d be likely to seek out on Earth would be little use in a fight, so it’d be an odd burst of sentiment indeed if she was what he sought, whereas…”  Again, he pauses, looking Jake over.  Whatever he sees causes him to continue.  “Whereas if he was looking for an object… The last time I saw him before his death, Elfangor was headed for Earth with the with the most powerful weapon in the known universe in his possession.”
    • Jake feels a chill.  Automatically his body turns, eyes scanning the cracked concrete and half-constructed walls.  He’s not sure he trusts Alloran with a weapon that powerful.  “What’s it look like, this thing Elfangor had?”
    • “Spherical.  An opalescent sort of white color.  Approximately forty inches in diameter.”  Alloran sighs heavily enough that his shoulders lower.  “The problem is, this is all speculation.  For all I know, Elfangor destroyed the damn thing out of some misguided sense of idealism.  For all I know he was just looking for Loren and the Time Matrix is nowhere near here.  For all I know his knowledge of its location was approximate, or his calculations were off, or his ship was too badly damaged to reach its location, and it’s hundreds of miles from here.”
    • “And for all you know, we’re standing within spitting distance of a weapon that could end the war tomorrow,” Jake finishes.
    • They stand there for a long time, looking out at the scattered cinderblocks and jagged edges of rebar.  And then they move on.
  • When Alloran arrives back at the scoop he set up not far from Ax’s, Tobias is standing there.  Human.  Tears painting his face.  Shoulders shaking, hands balled into fists.
    • “You knew,” he says.  “This entire time, you knew.  And you never said a word.”
    • Alloran finds himself looking away entirely, main eyes pointed at the ground and stalk eyes scanning behind him in a blatant ploy to avoid eye contact.  <There was speculation, inside the Yeerk Empire, after Iniss 226 stumbled on your school records.  That, and—>  He shifts his weight onto his back hooves.  <Your resemblance to your mother is… striking.>
    • Tobias swipes tears away with an angry jerk of the back of his hand, almost like he’s hitting himself in the face.  “And you never once thought that maybe I should know?“
    • <Would you believe,> Alloran says slowly, <that I did not tell you out of a desire to protect young Aximili?  We are taught never to speak ill of the dead, and Elfangor was one of the few I would have counted as friend even after I was taken by the yeerks.  To speak for him to his brother, to reveal secrets that he chose to keep, after such time as he could no longer speak for himself, would have been to dishonor his memory to Aximili.>
    • “Sure.  When he gets back, you can ask Ax about that one for yourself.”  Tobias turns away, demorphing.  
    • <Tobias—>  Alloran waits until the boy pauses.  <You would have made him proud, a thousand times over.>
    • <Guess we’ll never know now, will we?>  Tobias takes off at top speed and wheels away.  He turns in the direction of the hork-bajir valley, just before he soars out of sight.
  • Alloran thinks that they would have all made Elfangor proud, in the end.  He’s a poor substitute for the commander they need, but he can guide them the best he can all the same.  He’s there, in bievilerd morph and killing taxxon-controllers at top speed, when they rescue Tobias from Sub-Visser Fifty-One’s failed interrogation, and he tears Taylor’s head off her shoulders without a hint of remorse.  He’s there, a nameless monster from the hork-bajir’s Father Deep, when Jake stays their hand in the face of a whirlpool filled with helpless yeerks.  He’s there to witness as Edriss’s host tumbles off the face of a cliff and Marco speaks with detached calm of revenge.  He’s there as Ax guides his human friends through the ritual of mourning following the destruction of the yeerk pool, and as Cassie proves to him with shocking finality that not every yeerk alive is worth destroying.
  • And then, on the eve of the final battle, Jake pulls him aside for a private conversation.  He speaks not as a commander to a subordinate, or even as one war-prince to another, but as a friend asking a difficult and terrible favor of a friend.  That, Alloran thinks, is the truest mark of all that this boy was born to lead.
    • <I am the servant of my people,> Alloran says, once Jake is done speaking.  <And of my prince.  I have no honor left to give, but my life is not my own, and freely given for a worthy cause.>
    • Jake swallows.  “Then you think… you think I’m making the right call?”
    • <I am not the person to ask about questions of morality.  However…>  Alloran chooses his next words carefully.  <My brother, Arbat, tried to kill me not long after I was taken by the yeerks,> he says.  <I felt gratitude, and relief, and the wish that he would succeed.  Not just for his own sake, or for the sake of our ancestors.  For the sake of my Jahar, and the daughter I never knew except as a wish-flower.  And for my own sake as well.  It was a gesture of mercy, driven by love, and I recognized it as such.>
    • “Okay, then,” Jake whispers, after swallowing a few more times.  His eyes are unfocused, watching a point somewhere in middle distance.  “Okay.”
  • Jake tells Toby and Eva and James—all his lieutenants—what they have planned.  Toby, who dislikes Alloran even more openly than all the other hork-bajir in the valley, becomes the first to respond.  “Funny,” she says, “that you are willing to die protecting so many lesser creatures.”
    • <I know that there is no balance, no forgiveness, no recompense, for what I have done,> Alloran tells her.  <I only seek to make right what little is within my power to make right.  To learn what I can, and to use what I have already learned.  Which is why I ask your permission to die for this cause, when we both understand how that death will be remembered.>
    • “Maybe you have learned a thing or two along the way,” Eva murmurs.
    • Toby nods solemnly.  “Go in peace, and may you…”  She pauses to find honest words rather than kind ones.  “May you be remembered for the entirety of your life, up to and including its final moments.”
    • Alloran bows his head, and then drops to his knees before her.  It’s only when she rests a gentle claw on the back of his neck in benediction that he rises, and morphs, and flies away.

anonymous asked:

i like emilia but what has she said?

There’s not one thing that she said. She’s always annoying, her choice of words always sounds like she’s not the most clever of human beings, like she’s my 16-year-old sister who’s trying to debate about the refugee crisis without even knowing what qualifies as a refugee. In all honesty. Emilia’s always saying… so much stupid things.

Like: ‘I wear mascara and I have a high IQ’. ?? Ugh. Her interviews are so so cringeworthy. I mean, I understand what she’s going for, but she fully lacks the ability to express what it is she means with words that make sense. 

She’s trying to come across as if she has the faintest idea about universal issues but you know she’s just an average actress who got really lucky and should stay away from big things she knows nothing about. 
Personally, this is something that bothers me about a lot of ‘famous’ people. It’s cool, that you have a popular real life soap but try not to think you know a thing about human right’s violations, please. Bye Kendall Jenner, have a Pepsi and stick to what you know. Lipliners or whatever.
You see, the Pepsi commercial is actually a perfect example of ‘we were trying to do something right, we meant well *feels sorry for herself*’ when really, anyone with a brain could’ve told them it was stupid. But people with brains aren’t so often asked for their opinion anymore. We should, it’s important. People go to university for a reason. Emilia Clarke shouldn’t be the one talking about feminism, she went to theatre school for God’s sake! And she can’t even do THAT!
It’s important to listen to all women, to people in general, to talk, hear each other. If you want to begin to comprehend, you have to open your ears and eyes. See it from different perspectives But why are we listening to her as if she’s the one with all the answers and explanations? 
The funny and horrible thing about the real problems we’ve got in this world, is that they’re really very complicated. ‘Famous’ people mean well, but they’re a bit like Daenerys, their well-meant interference often does more harm than good because they say the wrong things. You can’t ‘bring awareness’ when you don’t understand the issue.  

“Women have been great rulers. And then for that to be a character that I’m known to play? That’s so fucking lucky. Anyone who seems to think that it’s not needed need only look at the political environment we’re all living in to be like, ‘Oh, no, it’s needed. It is needed.” 

Overall Emilia has been presenting Daenerys as the amazing rolemodel, an example of feminism and girlpower badass perfection that she is not and never was/will be. Which is problematic. Because Daenerys’s everything but a feminist. She’s conquering. She sets people on fire because they don’t do what she wants them to do. Now, we need more women in politics. But putting a lady on top is not necessarily going to change things for the better for the women at the bottom. E.g: Sanders’ ideas were more feminist than Clinton’s and Thatcher was not women-friendly. 

 Pretending as if a violent, power-hungry, self-entitled, overall talentless woman is feminist is problematic. ESPECIALLY because we’re living in a time where there are so many misconceptions and misunderstandings about what feminism is, what it is about. When women have a hard time being heard, when men wave feminism away because they can’t see what it’s about, what the point is.
It’s giving these ‘feminism is about making women rulers of the world’ vibes that we do not want. The, ‘men can’t do it, women should take over’.

Dany did not work hard to get where she is. Everyone who dared utter a sexist word to her she’s burned. She’s not where she is because she’s clever, brave, cunning, intelligent, strong, kind, honorable, worked hard… It’s cause she accidentally hatched dragons, got lots of men who want to do her and screams real loud. She tried ‘liberating’ slaves and embarrassed herself. Any person with that amount of self-given titles is not what little girls should look up to. Okay?   

Emilia’s always talking about feminism as if she has any idea about what it is, when she clearly does not. She complains about the Hollywood system that got her the role of Dany in the first place. Cause really, she can’t act to save her life yet got the role of Dany with zero acting experience? I think they really liked her eyebrow game.
She’s always whining about sexism in her life, how it’s so ‘shitty’ for her situation, how hard it is for her. I get it Emilia, people are very mean to you about your nude scenes in Game of Thrones. But why are you not actually speaking up about the issues of women who are not as privileged as you are? Feminism looks cool on a magazine cover, it’s very ‘popular’ right now. But Emilia doesn’t speak up about the less ‘popular’ parts. I’m not saying she should speak up about everything, I didn’t need her to join the woman’s march, but it would be great if she’d mention other aspects of feminism other than slut shaming nude scenes and male actors receiving more lines. That all isn’t even relevant to about 90% of the female population. She can’t call herself a feminist when she only complains about her own issues with sexism. I’d be fine with her just mentioning that if she didn’t allow them to add ‘Emilia the feminist’ on the cover. I don’t need every woman to speak up about feminism, but I do need women who aren’t actually feminist to stay away from the title, which she doesn’t, she actively grabs it every chance she gets. She’s the epitome of white feminism. 

She jokes that she needs to be drunk during nude photoshoots. What are you trying to teach us? Suck it up and take those clothes off? Whatever. She can do naked photoshoots, I just don’t see why she would do them if she hates it so much… and then joke about that. I thought Emilia Clarke hates it so much people treat her differently because of her ‘tits’? Yet she shows them to the world even though she doesn’t feel comfortable… like what are you and your tits trying to tell us? Kim Kardashian showing her tits daily, claiming she does so cause it makes her feel empowered is a thousand times more feminist than that.

Let Birgit teach you something… The thing with breasts and sexy photoshoots is: If you do not want to show your boobs, if you do not feel comfortable showing them, if you prefer not to, if you need alcohol to have the self-confidence to show them and to let yourself be photographed lying on a bed in lingerie… don’t do it. You’re never obligated to go naked. Ever. There. That’s feminism. 

 And I do not like Kim Kardashian.

She also jokes about how happy she is with pics of herself once they’re photoshopped. Cause photoshop being mainstream is so terribly funny. ha ha ha. No, actually. It’d be really cool actually, now I think of it, if Emilia Clarke could speak up about that. But then, even Game of Thrones photoshops her and puts her in corsets to make her look like a failed version of Monroe. Better laugh it away indeed. 

She also calls Daenerys Khaleesi. “I tried to make her funny but it doesn’t work. Khaleesi isn’t funny.” I’m not gonna explain what went wrong there. 

And it’s badass, it’s wonderful, to be on set, and to be able to go, ‘I’m gonna do some damage to people’.”  :S

Yeah I can go on. Every interview of her contains these sort of just… these comments that make your facial muscles spasm out of second-hand embarrassment. 

Oh, and this one is just me. She’s always swearing so much. I mean, I do too, all day. But not when I’m doing a job I’m being paid for, not when I am putting in some effort to appear professional. Not when I’m talking about important things, serious things, things that matter. When I’m giving an opinion that I need people to understand, that I want people to hear and take seriously. If she wants people to believe she’s got a high IQ, maybe she should start trying to sound like she’s got one. I can’t even begin to comprehend what my professor would do, if I’d hand in my paper ‘The lack of a direct British Constitution and how it helped make Brexit possible’ with the punch line, quoting Clarke: ‘You can’t expect everyone to just stop doing their jobs and march every day of their lives. But we’ve got to be in this shit for the long game.’ 

Again, this is just personal. It’s probably because she’s trying to talk about things I spend my full waking day discussing and debating and doing research after. *Shivers*. Again though, she’s not the only one.
No one had ever heard of Amal Clooney before she married the actor guy. How SAD. Do you guys have any idea how badass and brilliant Amal Clooney is? Check out her wikipedia page. She’s everything I aspire to be in my life, okay? And she doesn’t mention shit, fuck, tits or crap once when she’s directing herself towards the General Assembly of the United Nations, the body responsible for, among others, World Peace. Has any of you seen that speech? She knows what feminism is about, promise

Last one, is that I would have liked for her to apologize for saying this:

No Girl. 

iwasapruneratfaverolles  asked:

PLEASE TELL THE CHILDREN THE STORY OF MS. STUBELS

Grace fuck, why would you invoke her name like that???

Okay, fine, gather round children, buckle up because we’re going on a bumpy ride back to everyone’s collective least favorite place: 7th grade.

Some background: I went to a very small Catholic school. One class per grade (we were the largest with 19 kids), everyone knew each other whether they wanted to or not. Despite basically every teacher and faculty members insistence that we were The Best And Most Special Class In The School and that everyone loved having us, the longstanding 7th grade teacher Mrs. O’Hara decided to retire in the summer of 2008, meaning the school had to find us a new teacher for the upcoming year. This would be like, the first new teacher in the school in a while, and as she was getting the ‘best class’, it was viewed as a Big Deal. Somewhere in like July or August we got a letter announcing Mrs. Stubel, and it came with a list of books to pick for the summer reading, and that was basically all the information we had.

So…the first day of class. She seems nice enough. Very…ditsy, I guess? It was very easy for her to get herself off topic while talking. She constantly paced around the room, never staying in one spot for longer than a second, complaining she has restless leg syndrome. Which like, I’m sure she did, but she was in the middle of introducing herself and then went on a 20 minute tangent about restless leg syndrome without anyone prompting her. It was almost like you could see her scattered thoughts flying around her head.

So anyone, she eventually gives somewhat of an introduction- she had only taught in public schools before, and kept worrying she ‘didn’t know’ how to teach in a Catholic school despite the entire class insisting literally nothing was different, you just teach the curriculum, twice a week we have religion class with Sister Mary King, that’s literally it (she still talked over us in worry), she told us about her kids, she told us about her obsession with Emily Dickinson, stuff like that.

And then she hands us this worksheet.

She’s like, “Oh, these are just some basic questions for you to answer! Just so I can get to know you guys better!” like in lieu of an icebreaker game, which is fine, but…the questions. The questions were all “What is your most haunting fear?”, “What is your deepest regret?”, “Have you ever experienced the pain of loss?”, “What was your worst injury?”, “What was your worst nightmare?”, all questions like that, and then on the back she wanted us to draw a gravestone and write out what we wanted our epitaph to be.

We were twelve year olds, mind you.

Oh my God and one girl missed the first day because of her grandmother’s funeral, so when she came the next day and saw what the teacher was insisting she do for homework, she almost had a panic attack? And the lady still made her do it? Literally who wants to think about death anymore at a time like that omfg.

Okay, so then we get to the summer reading book reports, right? Now, she had given a list of maybe, 20 books that you could pick from, read it, and then present an oral report on it. You had to have notecards and you had to be able to answer questions from the class at the end. All in all, I’ve had worse projects.

So, on this list, she apparently put Madeleine L’Engle’s entire book series on the list…only she did not make it known that this was a series and not multiple stand alone books, so when reports started up it caused mass-panic of kids trying to put together plot points and make connections on what the hell they had read.

I was the only kid in the class who had chosen to read “A Wrinkle In Time”, and that has since lead to a series of events that…really actually scares me, I’m still incredibly freaked out, I’m not going to get into it right now because it’ll take away from the current story, but just know that I’m not above wondering if it only happened because I read the book for Stubel.

Anyway, so like, I got through the report okay. The class asking questions about it was fine, but the teacher kept asking questions that didn’t make sense, like, at all. My friend Angie has always had super neat handwriting and Mrs. Stubel got like, obsessed with her notecards and asked if she could borrow them for something. When we got our grades back a few weeks later, Angie had points taken off for not having notecards.

And then her teaching just…didn’t happen. She’d never stay on a topic, she’d always get herself distracted! We were not learning anything. And like, this wasn’t a class of advanced smart kids that loved to learn. By all accounts we should’ve been thrilled. But it got out of hand. It got to points where we had to start teaching lessons to ourselves, asking teacher from other grades for help, always coming home in tears, complaining constantly to our parents and the principal because this woman wasn’t teaching us anything. There were two kids who asked her multiple times for extra help, and she told them each time to ‘talk to me after school’, but then she’d leave immediately after school so they wouldn’t be able to talk to her. They finally brought up the issue in the middle of class and she had a breakdown, yelling about how nobody ever thinks that maybe the teacher has a lot of work to do, and maybe she’s entitled to taking off early, but when we tried to argue she shouldn’t schedule meetings and then break them off in the name of relaxation, she stormed out of the room and tried to get the principal to give us detention. (Which, like, our school didn’t even do, and she was the only one in the wrong during this situation) We are still in September at this point, and already at least ten kids have parents considering transferring them to another school. (And remember, there was only 19 of us, and most of the class had been together since preschool, so that was a big deal).

Then, she starts coming in with all the weird bruises. All the Moms™ immediately started gossiping that her husband had to be beating her, and that’s why she was so screwy in the head. But the way she talked about her husband made it seem like he *might* be dead, and we actually did witness her fall and smack her head into a doorknob once, so no one really knew what to believe. (Also, I’m not trying to imply that abuse would make someone crazy or ‘damaged’ or anything, this is just what was being said. I think they were trying to turn her into a more sympathetic character, because if you feel sorry for her you don’t have to hate her for frustrating your kids so much, and Hate Is A Bad Emotion.)

Also…this woman and Emily Dickinson.

She talked about Emily Dickinson every chance she could get. None of us knew who Emily Dickinson really was before she got there and you could see in her mind it was a capitol offense. She found out the curriculum didn’t have room to cover her (because like, we had a text book), and was way too upset about it. She started reading her poems whenever she found the time (usually somewhere in history class), and always gave us very detailed accounts about her dressing up as Emily and reading her poetry at the library.

Now, two things to note here:

  1. The library did not hire her to do this. She would literally just get in the mood, put on an Emily Dickinson costume that she made by herself, drive to different libraries, and just read poetry out loud to everyone there until someone eventually asked her to leave.
  2. The way she described these events…her tone, the look on her face, her posture…you could just tell that she was getting some sort of sexual gratification out of this? Like dressing up as Emily Dickinson in public and reading her sad poems is really what got this lady’s jollies rocking? Got her all hot and bothered? Which is…a lot, but why would you tell a bunch of seventh graders about it holy shit. What about that sounds like a good idea! What about that turns you back on!

So anyway, we learned a lot about Emily Dickinson against our will.

One of the Davids™ was reading a book for pleasure- which shouldn’t have been a shocker, a lot of kids always had books on them, but Stubel got really interested and asked if she could borrow it from him. He was like ‘sure, after I finish it?’ but she took it that day. He asked her for it back for like five weeks straight.

And…the strudels.

Okay, so the school was trying some dorky thing to promote ~togetherness~ or some virtue or something, I don’t remember the specifics of why, but each class had to make a huge themed poster and hang it on the wall outside the classroom. Which was like, whatever, not the most thrilling project but at least it allowed us to be productive vs just sitting there as the teacher runs about the room rambling about her family vacation from four years ago. Mrs. Stubel decided we needed a quirky nickname and after like three days of deliberation we were christened “Stubel’s Special Strudels”!

(points for alliteration or whatever, but no one actually voted for that and what exactly do strudels have to do with Catholicism? It became a big running joke amongst the kids)

Also, in case you were wondering, she didn’t explain the assignment correctly to us- so every other class had like these beautiful, artistic, well-themed and put together posters, while ours was just…literally a bunch of shit thrown together on paper. Nothing fit with each other, it was literally embarrassing to look at.

But then…she wouldn’t drop the strudel thing. Like she kept bringing it up. She got really into strudels and would just tell us random shit about them. Finally, someone jokes that we should get strudels one day for a party (like instead of a pizza party), and she’s Freaking Out and On Board. She really wants to buy us strudels and have a breakfast party now. She talked about it for like two days straight.

So like… you know in school when you would have a pizza party, usually the teacher would buy it? That’s how they always happened in my experience (not counting the last day of 10th grade when some kid had pizza delivered to the school for lunch but it didn’t get there until math class lol). But especially in grade school? Like if it wasn’t a PTA made party that’s super organized, the school would buy the food, right? Right?

Yeah, so she was like, if this is happening you guys need to give me the money. Just give me the money and then I’ll pick them up on my way to work!! And after some arguing some kids are on board. Strudels should only cost a couple dollars right?

And she’s like, oh no, I’m gonna get them from this high end bakery near my house so it’ll be special, but they’re not cheap and it’ll be a big order! I’m gonna need like fifteen dollars from each of you!

And at this point I’m just like…lady. Come on. 

But she keeps insisting. She’s not gonna go until every student in class pays up.

And I’m like…I’m poor. I don’t even like strudel.  And some of the less-naïve kids are siding with me.

And then she pulls that “you guys are just spoiling all the fun for your classmates” shit, like the naïve kids who already paid up, so it gets to the point where we just gotta cave and give her the money.

(I ended up stealing it out of my Crazy Bitch Aunt’s wallet so it’s whatever, I guess.)

And then of course, shockingly enough, every morning she was met with “where are the strudels?” and every morning she went wide eyed, slapped her forehead and yelled in embarrassed horror “I totally forgot! Tomorrow, guys, I promise!”

Honestly, with how scatterbrained and confused she always was…like to this day I can’t tell you with 100% certainty whether she hustled us or was just actually forgetting about the damn pastries, I choose to lean towards the hustled us side because that’s just the type of people I’m used to, but if I found out it was innocent forgetfulness I wouldn’t exactly be surprised.

She couldn’t handle more than one person talking at a time. Like, we’d have break periods, or group work, or something and all the talking made her go wide-eyed and batty. She’d look overworked and anxious and would be darting around the room trying to do work or something but she couldn’t focus and she’d yell at anyone who tried to talk to her directly. I remember one time she was using this boys desk for something so he asked “where am I supposed to sit?” and she snapped “Sit on the ceiling for all I care!”. And this kid was the Class Clown™ , so he immediately grabbed a chair in one hand and started climbing the bookcase to try and reach the ceiling. She’s standing right next to this and doesn’t even notice. He got all four chair legs planted on the ceiling and was trying to somehow maneuver his way into the chair (I really don’t know what the plan was exactly- he was really tall and it was a small building, so I think he probably had the idea that if he can get his body upside down and in the chair, and stretch out his arms like a hand-stand to hold onto bookcase, he could arguably sit on the ceiling.) but he slipped. Crashed into my desk and the two desks next to me, knocked over the book case, broke the chair in half and hit the desks with enough force to knock them down lower. It was hilarious. Everyone was loosing their shit cracking up (he was fine) and it still took Stubel like five minutes to notice his lying out across the desks right in front of her eyes. She was pissed but how did she miss any of it in the first place? She was barely being helpful in whatever it was she was trying to do.

This was the year the Phillies were going to the World Series, and all the grades were having a Phillies Rally in the cafeteria so a news crew was coming to the school and each class was supposed to come up with fun little cheers for them to broadcast. Multiple cheer ideas were presented to her and she vetoed all of them, someone even suggested just singing the damn eagles theme song with replaced words and calling it a day but she vetoed that too, she was very adamant that she could come up with a cheer all by herself and it’ll be the best one (whoever had the best cheer was winning like an ice cream day or something idk). And then like…literally five minutes before the rally she just hands us signs with the letters and was like ‘we’re just gonna spell out Phillies it will be cute won’t it my strudels???’. We were the weakest class there, predictably. I think we lost to the kindergarteners. There might still be a video online of me yelling “ i “ passionately at the top of my lungs. It was online bc our cheer was so bland the news crew cut it out of the broadcast.

I literally can’t say enough about how she never taught us anything. She’d be going on some tangent about how she doesn’t understand the science behind skiing, and I’d be like “Okay yes but please can you just tell me where Romania is on a map???” And she’d start fights whenever someone actually wanted to learn. It was so easy to get her angry but so hard for her to stay on topic. Kids started teaching the class themselves! Like seriously, she’d be rambling and one of us would just go up to the podium, open the teacher’s guide textbook and just start reading out loud and talking over her. By the time she noticed we’d be halfway through a lesson. And we understood it better than when she tried! You know something’s wrong when pre-teens are more qualified for a job than an adult who supposedly went to school for this.

We were in the church having run-throughs for our upcoming Confirmation and she almost set the church on fire…fifteen different times. In less than half an hour. How hard is it to hold a candle?

Okay, and here’s when stuff starts kicking up. It was October 28th, a Tuesday, and it was our last day of school that week because they were having parent-teacher conferences the rest of the week. So we were just hanging out, watching movies in class and reading (lord knows we weren’t learning), and Stubel calls me over to her desk.

So like, she had given everyone little bags with candy for Halloween, but I get up there and she hands me an extra one. And she’s like “Molly I know your birthday is tomorrow and I bought you a present but I left it on my coffee table this morning by accident! So just have the candy for now!”

And I’m like….”Ma’am I’m like, the sixth birthday this year. You didn’t give anyone else presents?”

And she goes “Oh, I know but this is a special secret surprise. I just know you’re gonna love it! Do you wanna stop by my house later this week to pick it up or should I just give it to you Monday after school?”

And like…In writing this sounds like a non-threatening exchange, and like, it was, but I felt so uncomfortable holy shit. I’m looking over my shoulder and shooting my friends SOS signals. Something about this felt so weird in my gut omfg. I told her thanks and I’d just see her Monday.

So we flash forward to Wednesday- my 13th birthday, the day the Phillies won the world series, and also the day my mother innocently strolled into the school for her meeting only to be met with screaming, the sound of heavy destruction, and the school secretary Mrs. Daily running at her in a panic, waving her arms and yelling “YOUR MEETING IS CANCELLED YOUR MEETING IS CANCELLED GET IN MY OFFICE NOW!”

So my poor mother, who thought she could handle this whole meeting in a few minutes and barely be an hour late for work, is now barricaded in the front office with the school secretary, as the noises from down the hall get louder and louder. The woman explains that they had gotten so many complaints about Mrs. Stubel that this morning, when she got to the school, the principal Sister Patricia called her in and said “Listen, we need you to be professional and still have the parent conferences, but we have to let you go. We just don’t think you fit in well here, and the kids need to come first and feel comfortable in their school.” and like, I’m paraphrasing because I wasn’t there, but we all know she was very polite and professional about it.

Mrs. Stubel, however…was not.

She flipped her chair and stormed out of the office, and locks herself in the seventh grade classroom. She started wrecking the shit out of that place, screaming obscenities and the top of her lungs, they had to call the cops on her! She was locked in there for almost an hour! And let me just give you a nice little list of everything she did in that classroom:

  • Smashed three windows.
  • Threw everything off her desk and carved swear words all over it.
  • Got cleaning fluid that she knew would damage the chalk boards, smeared it all over.
  • Cracked the chalk boards by repeatedly smashing chairs against them.
  • Wrote swear words all over the walls and on desks
  • Went into students desks, ripped up their books.
  • Stole my glasses. (which were in my desk bc I only used them in class at the time)
  • Threw some desks around.
  • Carved swear words into the boards. (there was so much carving I’m assuming she just had a knife on her person, which has to lead to the question, did she have a knife on her while she was in class with us?)
  • Physically ripped the hooks to hang backpacks on out of the wall.
  • Knocked the closet door off it’s hinges.
  • Ripped up all the books in the bookcases and threw their pages all around the room.
  • Wrote lewd phrases inside student’s desks.
  • Broke multiple chairs.
  • Used her podium as a battering ram against the wall that’s in front of where the backpacks go. (the wall won but Damage Was Inflicted)
  • Set a fire in the trash can.
  • When the principal and other teachers started trying to get in, she tossed her rolling chair at the door to scare them off.
  • She was screaming curse words at the top of her lungs the entire time, and cursing the school and the kids and the principal and the church in general, and the school building was small, so all the parents and the smaller children that had to come to the meetings (who were locked in their respective classrooms in fear) heard everything.
  • So much more? But it’s 4:30 in this morning and this list is already long.

So my mom is in the front office and deadass the

entire police force

shows up, running down the hallway to the classroom yelling at her to stop, and it takes a while for them to get her out holy shit. They knocked down the door and she tried to escape out of one of the broken windows! But they got her and dragged her out.

So of course, in such a small school with very involved parents this shit spread like wildfire. The entire town knew within the day. The poor principal called the newly retired old-seventh grade teacher and was like “So we…need some help” and the lady was like “I already heard I’ll be there Monday” omfg. I remember I got a text from one of my classmates saying “if your birthday wish was for us to be set free from the beast I love you” omfg.

So, we eventually go back to school on Monday and everyone’s buzzing. The principal has us go to the cafeteria and she ‘delicately’ explains the situation, and that the old teacher is coming out of retirement for us, the school has a restraining order against Mrs. Stubel now and that she’s sorry we had to deal with this mess. Our classroom had to go under some heavy reconstruction before we could be let back in there, so for like two weeks we alternated between the cafeteria and the preschooler’s classroom, we had no books or anything, just provided loose-leaf paper and pens. It was like, surreal, but everyone was just so happy to be rid of her and to be in the presence of a competent teacher omfg. We eventually were able to get back into our usual classroom.

  1. It took a while for things to go completely back to normal, though. After the big spectacle she made, for weeks after she was fired we were all very scared of the possibility of Mrs. Stubel returning to the school with a gun in hand. It was always a topic we whispered about at lunch with wide eyes and shivers. Like…genuine nightmare scenario.
  2. About two weeks after she was fired, a boy in the back of the classroom gasped loudly during SSR, and when we all looked at him, he whispered in anger “She never gave us our freakin’ strudels!”
  3. About three months after she was fired, we were lined up at the door to go to Library when a few of us looked through the windows and saw something darting through the trees. It was fast and we couldn’t make anything out, so we let it drop. When the class and teacher returned half and hour later, the book she had borrowed months before from one of the boys was sitting on his desk. It was just laying there, the room was silent, nothing had been disturbed…but I have never seen a book look so threatening. People were freaking out. Someone kept insisting that she turned the book into a bomb. No one figure out how she got in the school, and no one could figure out how she got it on the right desk, as we had switched the seating arrangement since she had last been there.  
  4. A full six months after she had left, it was nearing the end of the school year and our class was dicking around during our last computer class. Someone found a website (that we weren’t allowed to be on) that pulls up any police records attached to whoever’s name you enter, so someone decided to search Mrs. Stubel as a joke. We ended up finding out she had like six DUI’s.

Aaaaand that’s the story of the horrendous teacher I had for two months in 7th grade. One of my favorite party stories but tbh she still haunts me™ .

Rick Riordan won a Stonewall award today

for his second Magnus Chase book, due to the inclusion of the character Alex Fierro who is gender fluid. This was the speech he gave, and it really distills why I love this author and his works so much, and why I will always recommend his works to anyone and everyone.

“Thank you for inviting me here today. As I told the Stonewall Award Committee, this is an honor both humbling and unexpected.

So, what is an old cis straight white male doing up here? Where did I get the nerve to write Alex Fierro, a transgender, gender fluid child of Loki in The Hammer of Thor, and why should I get cookies for that?

These are all fair and valid questions, which I have been asking myself a lot.

I think, to support young LGBTQ readers, the most important thing publishing can do is to publish and promote more stories by LGBTQ authors, authentic experiences by authentic voices. We have to keep pushing for this. The Stonewall committee’s work is a critical part of that effort. I can only accept the Stonewall Award in the sense that I accept a call to action – firstly, to do more myself to read and promote books by LGBTQ authors.

But also, it’s a call to do better in my own writing. As one of my genderqueer readers told me recently, “Hey, thanks for Alex. You didn’t do a terrible job!” I thought: Yes! Not doing a terrible job was my goal!

As important as it is to offer authentic voices and empower authors and role models from within LGBTQ community, it’s is also important that LGBTQ kids see themselves reflected and valued in the larger world of mass media, including my books. I know this because my non-heteronormative readers tell me so. They actively lobby to see characters like themselves in my books. They like the universe I’ve created. They want to be part of it. They deserve that opportunity. It’s important that I, as a mainstream author, say, “I see you. You matter. Your life experience may not be like mine, but it is no less valid and no less real. I will do whatever I can to understand and accurately include you in my stories, in my world. I will not erase you.”

People all over the political spectrum often ask me, “Why can’t you just stay silent on these issues? Just don’t include LGBTQ material and everybody will be happy.” This assumes that silence is the natural neutral position. But silence is not neutral. It’s an active choice. Silence is great when you are listening. Silence is not so great when you are using it to ignore or exclude.

But that’s all macro, ‘big picture’ stuff. Yes, I think the principles are important. Yes, in the abstract, I feel an obligation to write the world as I see it: beautiful because of its variations. Where I can’t draw on personal experience, I listen, I read a lot – in particular I want to credit Beyond Magenta and Gender Outlaws for helping me understand more about the perspective of my character Alex Fierro – and I trust that much of the human experience is universal. You can’t go too far wrong if you use empathy as your lens. But the reason I wrote Alex Fierro, or Nico di Angelo, or any of my characters, is much more personal.

I was a teacher for many years, in public and private school, California and Texas. During those years, I taught all kinds of kids. I want them all to know that I see them. They matter. I write characters to honor my students, and to make up for what I wished I could have done for them in the classroom.

I think about my former student Adrian (a pseudonym), back in the 90s in San Francisco. Adrian used the pronouns he and him, so I will call him that, but I suspect Adrian might have had more freedom and more options as to how he self-identified in school were he growing up today. His peers, his teachers, his family all understood that Adrian was female, despite his birth designation. Since kindergarten, he had self-selected to be among the girls – socially, athletically, academically. He was one of our girls. And although he got support and acceptance at the school, I don’t know that I helped him as much as I could, or that I tried to understand his needs and his journey. At that time in my life, I didn’t have the experience, the vocabulary, or frankly the emotional capacity to have that conversation. When we broke into social skills groups, for instance, boys apart from girls, he came into my group with the boys, I think because he felt it was required, but I feel like I missed the opportunity to sit with him and ask him what he wanted. And to assure him it was okay, whichever choice he made. I learned more from Adrian than I taught him. Twenty years later, Alex Fierro is for Adrian.

I think about Jane (pseudonym), another one of my students who was a straight cis-female with two fantastic moms. Again, for LGBTQ families, San Francisco was a pretty good place to live in the 90s, but as we know, prejudice has no geographical border. You cannot build a wall high enough to keep it out. I know Jane got flack about her family. I did what I could to support her, but I don’t think I did enough. I remember the day Jane’s drama class was happening in my classroom. The teacher was new – our first African American male teacher, which we were all really excited about – and this was only his third week. I was sitting at my desk, grading papers, while the teacher did a free association exercise. One of his examples was ‘fruit – gay.’ I think he did it because he thought it would be funny to middle schoolers. After the class, I asked to see the teacher one on one. I asked him to be aware of what he was saying and how that might be hurtful. I know. Me, a white guy, lecturing this Black teacher about hurtful words. He got defensive and quit, because he said he could not promise to not use that language again. At the time, I felt like I needed to do something, to stand up especially for Jane and her family. But did I make things better handling it as I did? I think I missed an opportunity to open a dialogue about how different people experience hurtful labels. Emmie and Josephine and their daughter Georgina, the family I introduce in The Dark Prophecy, are for Jane.

I think about Amy, and Mark, and Nicholas … All former students who have come out as gay since I taught them in middle school. All have gone on to have successful careers and happy families. When I taught them, I knew they were different. Their struggles were greater, their perspectives more divergent than some of my other students. I tried to provide a safe space for them, to model respect, but in retrospect I don’t think I supported them as well as I could have, or reached out as much as they might have needed. I was too busy preparing lessons on Shakespeare or adjectives, and not focusing enough on my students’ emotional health. Adjectives were a lot easier for me to reconcile than feelings. Would they have felt comfortable coming out earlier than college or high school if they had found more support in middle school? Would they have wanted to? I don’t know. But I don’t think they felt it was a safe option, which leaves me thinking that I did not do enough for them at that critical middle school time. I do not want any kid to feel alone, invisible, misunderstood. Nico di Angelo is for Amy, and Mark and Nicholas.

I am trying to do more. Percy Jackson started as a way to empower kids, in particular my son, who had learning differences. As my platform grew, I felt obliged to use it to empower all kids who are struggling through middle school for whatever reason. I don’t always do enough. I don’t always get it right. Good intentions are wonderful things, but at the end of a manuscript, the text has to stand on its own. What I meant ceases to matter. Kids just see what I wrote. But I have to keep trying. My kids are counting on me.

So thank you, above all, to my former students who taught me. Alex Fierro is for you.

To you, I pledge myself to do better – to apologize when I screw up, to learn from my mistakes, to be there for LGBTQ youth and make sure they know that in my books, they are included. They matter. I am going to stop talking now, but I promise you I won’t stop listening.”

How to Read Energy and What to Expect

As many of you know, one service I offer on this blog are energy readings. I have gotten a lot of inquiries on how I do these readings, so I would like to inform you on my methods as well give you tips on how to do them yourself. Please note that I am not an expert nor do I have the final say on how to do energy readings properly, this is just my experience. 

Understanding Energy
The way I understand energy is as the force that inhabits everything at one point or another. Everything has an energy signature, down to the smallest grain of sand. However, the energy of living things is a bit different. There have been many names given to this energy but it is most often known as one’s life force. The hardest part of an energy reading is picking up on one’s particular energy among the trillions of energy sources swirling around at any given moment, but I will tell you how I do this.


How to Read Someone’s Energy

My method for reading energy is going to be different from everyone else’s. Your method for reading energy will be different from everyone else’s. Everyone has their own techniques for reading energy, but here are a few of mine.

  1. Sit in a comfortable location with at least part of you pressed firmly against the ground. 
  2. If you are reading for someone irl, have them sit near you. Physical contact often helps if both of you are comfortable with that. 
  3. If you are reading for someone not physically present, it can help to have a piece of them “sit” in front of you. I ask for names and blog urls when I do my readings so that I have an energy signature to focus on but you really can use anything or nothing at all, whatever helps you get a lock on the other person’s energy. 
  4. Sit in front of the person or blog and close your eyes. A bit of meditation before you try to tap into their energy is a good idea.
  5. Feel the energy of the earth under you and feel out this individual’s energy as it appears, a piece of the earth just like you.
  6. Grab onto this energy. Snatch it from the earth just briefly. Images, smells, tastes, sounds, colors, and feelings should come to you as you feel their energy. Keep a mental note of what you experience and write it down once you return.
  7. What you have experienced while feeling someone’s energy is their energy reading. It may be a bit of a jumbled mess, but that’s okay. Everyone’s energy is different but there may also be some overlap, which is also okay.

You can give someone their energy reading in many forms. I give mine as a paragraph with everything I saw, yours may be only a line or two. Everyone experiences different things when reading energy and having shorter readings isn’t a bad thing. You may even pick up on more or less energy from each individual. Its totally okay if some readings are long and others very short. 


So…. What if your energy reading doesn’t resonate with me, like, at all?

There could be a great number of reasons your reading went screwy. As I said before, energy can neither be created nor destroyed, it simply changes shape. This being said, it could be a number of factors.

  1. I am picking up not on your energy, but the energy of someone very close to you. If you have been in contact with them recently, pieces of your energy sometimes clings to them. 
  2. It could also be that I am reading into the energy of one of your past lives, something you won’t necessarily resonate with or remember.
  3. It could also be that the reading was accurate but maybe some part of it was hard to hear, or some repressed memory. This is not the fault of the reader, in the long run it is up to the client to interpret the reading. 
  4. It could also be external factors in my own life clouding my ability to pick up on your energy. My cat knocks over a vase in another room and not thinking I write that in as your energy because I was so lost in the moment.
  5. It could also be you’re my last in a long line of energy readings and I am exhausted and hurriedly trying to get through your reading without paying attention to detail. 
  6. It could be any number of things, all acting upon one another. Keep an open mind. 

Whatever the reason for your energy reading not being accurate, it is best to just be polite and move on. No good will come of harassing a reader, especially if they are offering a free service. 


I just did an energy reading and I’m exhausted!

Yup, that’s a real thing and totally normal. Energy readings can be draining, especially for beginners, as you expend some of your energy when you tap into the earth and go out in search of other energies. This is especially draining at first if you have not yet learned how to shield your energy when searching in the energy field and subsequently some of it may be leeched out. Here are some self care tips to help you regenerate faster.

  1. Time yourself. I like to light a stick of incense before I start my readings. Once it is completely burned out, I stop no matter what I’m doing and go drink some water and just do something I enjoy for 30 minutes or so before returning to readings. 
  2. Eat or drink something sugary or high in carbohydrates while you read to return energy lost. I like to munch on sweet cherries while I read.
  3. Learn to shield yourself from energy drain. I imagine my energy dressed in a suit of impenetrable armor before I search out someone’s energy. Your shield can come in any manor of form, find one that feels right to you and keeps the pesky energy leech out. 
  4. Take little breaks in between readings, even just a minute or two to catch your breath. 
  5. Use crystals to return your energy. I like to take some moon-charged amethyst and hold it in my palm during breaks, feeling its energy flow into me. 
  6. Practice self care. Shower, change your clothes, put on some lotion or makeup… Anything like that will help replenish energy.
  7. Take a nap! I have a bad habit of doing energy readings as soon as I wake up and then I’m dead for the rest of the day. Napping helps immensely. 
  8. Know your limits. You probably won’t be able to do 20 energy readings your first day. Pacing is so important.
  9. If you are doing energy readings online, be prepared to use the block button. Some people are going to be rude, but that is their problem not yours.
  10. Have fun! If energy readings become stressful take a break. If someone is waiting on you for their energy reading, they will understand if it comes a little late. If not, fuck ‘em. You don’t owe anything to people who don’t care about your well being as a reader. 

There are a great many things you can do to recharge after an energy reading, but these are just a few of my favorites. Everyone is different, and respecting that is key. 

Remember actually enjoying yourself is key. Good luck with your energy readings!

University classes are a monster you can’t prepare for until you’re in them. I have been through every up and down with schoolwork possible in the past year, so here are some tips that can hopefully help you avoid those downs:

Choosing and Registering for Your Classes

  • Make sure to thoroughly check both your major requirements and your gen ed requirements. Normally, you’ll have an advisor to help you make sure you’re on track, but Vandy doesn’t assign first-year engineering students one until after registration when school starts, and I didn’t have an advisor for this year’s registration either due to my major change, so I’ve spent hours and hours doing this on my own. There’s often recommended courses and example schedules in the course catalog that tell you what classes you should be taking at this point in time. Pay attention to that and you should be fine. For example, you have to have taken a first-level writing class to qualify for junior standing here. Those are the little things you have to look out for. To keep track of it all, I have a spreadsheet I use for planning my sophomore - senior years that lists all the requirements I need to meet in terms of hours and courses in order to graduate on time. I plug in possible courses and see which requirement they would fulfill and when. You can check it out here to see what I mean, it’s very helpful.
  • Find at least one fun elective to take if at all possible. It gets very tiring when all you have on your schedule are really difficult classes that you don’t enjoy. Try to find at least one class that you’re genuinely interested in to help get you excited for the day. Each of my last semesters, my schedule consisted of a calculus class, a lab science, a comp sci class, and Italian. Italian was the only fun one that I enjoyed going to. It really helps you out. You’re not just in college to get your degree, you’re there to discover what you really want to do, so feel free to explore your catalog and take something completely out of character just because you want to. Bonus if it fills some kind of requirement (Italian filled my Foreign Language Proficiency and one of my International Cultures reqs.).
  • Have multiple versions of your schedule based on which classes you may or may not get into. I don’t know about your school, but at Vanderbilt, class registration is literally like the Hunger Games. You’re assigned an enrollment date based on your year (seniors get to go first, then juniors, etc.) and at 8 am on that day, you refresh the website and either enroll in your classes or get placed on the wait list for it. If you’re a freshman, you’re basically screwed because you go last, and so you could have planned out your perfect schedule only to find they’ve all filled up the day before your enrollment period starts. To avoid having to scramble, have multiple versions of your schedule, with back ups and substitutions for every class. This way, you won’t be surprised when you go to enroll and all but one of your classes are filled, then you have to search for other classes, but at that point, all that’s left are scraps that don’t fit your requirements. Plan plan plan and practice clicking the enroll button on all your classes as fast as you can for when the clock strikes 8.
  • You have freedom over your schedule now; take advantage of that! No more 8-3 Monday through Friday; you can take classes whenever you want. I prefer to have all my classes on MWF in a block of a few hours and only one or no class on TR. Of course, sometimes you’re going to have to take classes at less optimal times, but do try to accommodate yourself and take classes at times you know will be good for you. Lots of people prefer to start early and finish early, while I like to start no earlier than 11, even if I don’t finish until 5. The best part of college is you can do what you want.
  • Don’t take 8 ams. I’m repeating this cause it’s important. I swear, you’ll regret it. In high school, I woke up every morning early as hell to catch my bus at 6:30, but in college, it was nearly impossible for me to get up for my 11 am only three times a week. Don’t ever take an 8 am by choice. And if you have no choice, good luck lol.
  • Don’t be afraid to drop a class. If you’re doing terribly in a class or you absolutely can’t stand it, drop the class. There’s a very little chance that if you’re failing during the first half of the semester, you’ll be able to change your grade dramatically in the second half. Maybe you decided to be an overzealous freshman and signed up for the maximum number of hours possible and now you’re drowning. Drop a class! Sometimes, a course is going to do more harm to you than good, so it’s best to get rid of it than have an F or a W on your transcript.
  • Use RateMyProfessor! I totally forgot about this when I originally posted this and it’s already got almost 1,000 notes but hopefully people see this. RateMyProfessor is so fucking useful. It’s IMPERATIVE that you check this website before you enroll in classes. Someone at Vandy actually made a Chrome extension for our enrollment website that automatically shows a professor’s ranking while you’re looking for classes. Obviously, take it with a grain of salt, and make sure the reviews actually make valid points about the workload and class and isn’t just someone bitter about failing. I took calc with a professor who taught at my high school just cause she taught at my high school even though her reviews said she was insanely difficult and the class was near impossible to pass. Guess what? They were right and I failed as did a big chunk of everyone else in her class. You don’t have to let RMP dictate your schedule, but definitely check it out, and if everyone says the professor is awful, don’t fucking take them. 

Attending Your Classes

  • Establish a connection with your professor early. I recommended introducing yourself on the first day of class just so they know your name and face in another post. It’d be even better to attend an office hour or review session or something. Just make sure they know you. It’ll be easier to communicate when you need something later in the semester if it isn’t their first time seeing you.
  • Actually use this connection with your professors. In my experience, they can be pretty understanding and when you’re in a bad place, they’ll likely help you out. If something is preventing you from doing your best in class, go to them for help (I didn’t go to many office hours but I wish I did! Who better to explain to you something you don’t understand than the person who grades you on it?) or explain to them your situation. I had professors let me take tests late and redo assignments due to my mental health after I explained to them I wasn’t just a terrible student; if it wasn’t for this, I would’ve failed all of their classes. Maybe at the end of the semester they’ll drop one of your wonky grades or bump you up that extra half point you need. Your professors are a resource, and it’s up to you to use it.
  • Take notes however you want. I used my laptop in some, paper in others, and even my iPad and a stylus for calculus. In all of your classes will be a mixture of different techniques and no one cares what you do. Whatever works best for you and helps you get down the most information is what you should do. Also, you don’t have to write down everything. If your professor uses slides and posts them for you to download, you don’t really have to write down anything at all unless they add extra points, so that’s really convenient. 
  • You don’t have to sit in the front. As long as you can see and hear, which you’ll likely be able to due to large projection screens and microphones, it literally doesn’t matter where you sit. In my experience, the professors call on people from every part of the lecture hall, so everyone gets an equal chance at participation. It’s up to yourself to make sure you can pay attention, not your seat.
  • Do your best to attend every single class meeting. It’s inevitable that you’re going to miss class at some point; you will get sick, you won’t have finished an assignment, you’ll need a mental health day, something will happen. Missing class can too easily become a habit if you do it often, so try to never do it. Don’t force yourself to go if you can’t handle it, obviously your health always comes first, but I mean don’t skip cause you want to sleep in or cause you just don’t feel like going. If you do have to miss class and 1) you have a good reason for it (i.e. sickness) and 2) it’s a class small enough that your professor will notice you’re not there, email them and let them know why, just so they’re aware you’re not just skipping to skip.  
  • Try to make friends in your classes. A little study group would be even better. It’ll be really useful to have someone who can help you with a homework question you don’t understand or send you their notes when you miss a class. It can also be great to study with other people, depending on how you study best. I’ve had friends in all my classes so far and it’s been a great help, even if we just complained about the test we just failed then went to get pizza.

Tackling the Coursework

  • Make a REALISTIC study schedule. The key word here is realistic. During winter break I made a study schedule that started with me waking up at 8 am every morning to go work out and ended with me going to sleep promptly at 11 or midnight after spending literally the entire day studying with breaks only for meals. No breaks on weekends, no room to socialize, and I thought this would be perfectly fine for me to follow. Of course, I didn’t last a week because that was fucking ridiculous. You don’t need to schedule every hour of your day; college doesn’t work like that. Just do something simple, an hour for a class or maybe less depending on how hard it is and if you have a test coming up. Trust your instincts. There’s no need to go overboard, and you don’t need to spend six hours a day working, just dedicate a time to studying and stick with that.
  • Explore study techniques until you find one that works for you. Everyone doesn’t study the same, so if you do what everyone else is doing you might not get the results you want. Even if you had a great system in high school, it might not be fitting for college, so check out a bunch of different methods and see how you do with them. Once you find the best way you study, you’ll be unstoppable when exam time comes.
  • Start your assignments early, as soon as you can after they’re assigned. There’s nothing worse than having a bunch of assignments/tests/papers due on the same day and you haven’t finished any of them. Trust me, it is so much less stressful to complete an assignment as soon as you can after it’s been assigned so you don’t have to worry about it anymore. Putting things off has much more severe consequences than it did in high school and you will regret procrastinating. If you have a weekly assignment due every Friday, try to complete them by Wednesday every week. At the very least, start an assignment the day you get it even if you can’t finish it that day. It’s a lot easier to do something after you’ve already begun working on it, and that one thing you do is progress.
  • The name of the college game is prioritization. If college teaches you anything, it’s how to prioritize your duties. You need to create a hierarchy of importance for your classes and types of assignments. For me, calculus assignments were always done first because that was the most difficult class and the one I absolutely needed to pass, and Italian was always done last cause it was my easiest class and I could complete even our biggest assignments in one day. You’re going to have a very large amount of work and sometimes you have to sacrifice finishing a small homework assignment to finish a huge paper or study for an exam. I liked to complete my hardest/longest assignments right when I got back from class to get them over with and leave my easier ones for later. Prioritizing is essential if you want to succeed in university, so learn how to do it immediately! 
  • Remember that uni is really difficult and your grades don’t define you. Something I learned the hard way is that sometimes you can try really really hard, do the best you can, and still fail. That’s just life. Sometimes you have to do something a million times before you get it right, or before you discover that it just isn’t right for you at all. I worked harder than I ever had this past year, and what I got in return was two failed classes, two D’s, academic probation, and a 2.3 GPA. Actually, my current GPA isn’t even a 2.3, it’s a 2.295, which is probably blasphemy to the studyblr community, but this shit happens. It happens to all of us and it sucks. It can be really shitty to feel like your effort wasn’t reflected in your result. What you need to do is adjust your expectations and keep working hard. After you hit your stride, your grades could be great in no time. Or you could discover that math or science or english just isn’t for you. Maybe you’ll discover university as a whole isn’t right for you, and that’s okay! Bad grades, whether you define that as a B or an F, don’t mean you’re a bad student or a bad person. You do what you can, and then let go of what you can’t control. The sooner you grasp this idea, and the sooner you learn to be gentle with yourself, the easier a time you’ll have.

So I feel like I forgot a lot of things but also this is pretty long so I’m going to end the post here. If you have any further questions or topics for a post you’d like to see, my inbox is always open. I don’t know which post is coming next, but I’ll keep you posted. Thanks for reading and I hope this helped you out!

Previous Posts:

She’s Just Not That Into You » Part I (A Harry Styles Miniseries)

First and foremost, I need to dedicate this miniseries to @stylesunchained​. If it weren’t for B, this idea would’ve never come to fruition. It’s been so lovely to torture you with snippets of this story, and now it’s finally here! And yes, the whole damn thing is dedicated to you, my beautiful friend.

Secondly, I need to take the time to thank @cuddlemusclestyles​ for her knowledge of England and always answering my questions about it. I would be lost without you, for you are my own personal Google.

And, of course, thank you all for the interest you’ve expressed for this miniseries. It’s always that much more enjoyable to write when you know you’ve got people rooting for you. I hope I don’t disappoint you.

Let me know what you think! Happy reading.

Originally posted by chillhopdotcom

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10 Tips for Writing (Good) Smut

so. let’s do this.

About a year ago, I had to read a book for my school’s summer reading assignment called How to Read Literature Like a Professor by Thomas Foster. It’s not a bad book, pretty decent actually, but there was this one chapter about sex scenes in literature. And one of the first sentences was along the lines of “writing sex is boring.”

and I did a double-take. Bc in my experience, that is absolutely not the case, and if you do find yourself bored while writing smut, then you’re not doing it right. See, Thomas’s main argument was that there’s only so many ways you can write sex scenes, because there’s only so many sex acts you can choose from. (My boy Thomas is clearly a vanilla dude, but let’s not hold that against him.) 

But one of the most important things to keep in mind while writing smut is that it’s not necessarily just about the act itself. So while Thomas is right that there are limits as to how many ways ppl can have sex, he failed to realize that writing sex is about a LOT more than that. And I’m gonna prove it to you.

Keep reading

What measure is a non-humanoid?


I’ve written before about how omnics are treated in-universe, and without meaning to Blizzard brought up a good question, which is the difference between humanoid omnics like Zenyatta and the Shambali monks and the decidedly more alien omnics like those affiliated with Null Sector. 

On one hand we have the human-omnic audience during Mondatta’s speech about unity, all omnics which have some semblance of a face.

Whenever the focus is on the omnics’ fight for their rights, they’re at the forefront, the sympathetic metal-humans who just want to live their lives. 
Compare them to Null Sector.

No faces, different legs, non-human proportions. They’re the evil ones, the extremists, the terrorists who’d rather blow all King’s Row to hell than enter in a civilised dialogue about their rights. 

They hold several humans hostage but they also have Mondatta, who you’d think should be on their side if not approving of their methods. But to them he and the mayor of London are one and the same. What did Mondatta do to earn their ire?
Why aren’t there non-humanoid omnics in the audience at his speech? Why is the first time we see a significant non-humanoid omnic presence when they’re threatening to blow up the city?

Keep reading

In Motion (M) | 01

Character / Genre / words: Jeon Jungkook x reader (with POV switches) | Smut, Mature scenes, Masturbation Club!au | 7,721 words

➼ Summary: The rule is simple - you can look but you can’t touch. You’ve been attending the event for a few times but it was only when a certain boy arrives at one occasion did you feel the fire of lust burning inside

➼ Warning: exhibitionism, public display of masturbations, graphic smut scenes, mutual masturbations, mentions/use of sex toys, language

➼ Warning 2.0: this is only the beginning

➼ a/n: This is a revamped/edited version. I have decided to not scrap the whole thing when there is no scenes or plots being changed in the process. Feel free to reread this chapter before the next chapter is out. More story fillers will be added in the upcoming chapters.

➼ Chapters: 01 | 02 | 03


Keep reading

hey guys! talking from personal experience, this time of year can be super scary for anybody looking to move into the job world. whether you’re graduating soon and need to look for full time work, looking for summer internships or placements, or just looking to get a part time job to make some money over the summer, a solid cv is crucial. so i’m gonna share some of my tips below, i work in advertising, i’ve worked most of my career in sales, and even though i’m still fresh to the working world i hope i can give you guys some employment tips! 

basic bits

  • ok, so you need to put your contact details at the top of the page, name, phone number, email address, post code and sometimes nationality are all important to get out of the way first 
  • if you have your degree grade, or expected grade, put education at the top. list your grade and the dates you studied at uni, and the grades, dates and subjects that you studied to a high level when you left school. this is less important for part time jobs so i would probably put it below the next section in those circumstances
  • past experience is next. list everywhere you’ve ever worked, whether it was a proper paid job, helping out at local events, tutoring, anything that can give insight into your skills and your character. put a couple bullet points for each job, explaining the tasks you did and what you learnt from them. the most important thing is to emphasise what skills you have and how you’ve proven them in the past. 
  • i put other experience next, generally just volunteering, if you held a responsibility role in your school you can put that here too
  • skills & interests should be another section, talking about your non work related skills (but still relating these back to working). so for me, i talk about my creative hobbies like writing and music, which are important when applying for creative industries like advertising. i also talk about teaching myself arabic and adobe creative suite because languages are useful, design skills are useful, and most crucially taking initiative and embracing opportunities to learn are essential in any job that wants to see you grow

sales tips 

  • other people applying for the same jobs as you will not be handing in a 100% truthful cv. you don’t have to lie, and you shouldn’t ever ever lie on your cv because it’s not worth getting caught out. however, you’d be smart to jazz it up a bit. 
  • every task you’ve undertaken in your life has taught you something, no matter how small. think about every job related thing you’ve ever done and think of a way to make it sound special. 
  • for instance, i manually alphabetically organised a directors business cards during an internship. it was beyond boring. yet, now i talk about being a crucial support for the team, how i took initiative in collating their contacts into a brand new filing system to increase productivity speed. any dumb task can be chatted up. 
  • sales is all about confidence, confidence, confidence. you have to believe you are a great candidate, it’ll come across in your writing 
  • keep it to one page, max 2 if you’ve had a lot of previous roles. nobody wants to read that much. if it’s looking a bit long try reformatting to keep it all looking neat and succinct. 
  • send it as a pdf, not as a word document. keeps it looking professional. 

cover letters

  • now, cover letters can be a real pain. i would suggest writing different ones for each application, even though making a generic one and editing it is easier. it’s worth it to show that you give a shit. 
  • actually, all that really matters is giving a shit. talk about how great you are, and about how much you have to offer that they need in their company. you can phrase it in a non arrogant fashion, but at the end of the day a job application isn’t the place for humility. 
  • talk about the company, talk about why you like it and why you want to be there. if you’re applying to a small company definitely chat about how great you think the business is, because chances are the people who run the company will actually see it. people who have their own company LOVE to hear people talk about loving their company and their idea. 

all that really matters

  • be genuine, be passionate, be enthusiastic about the role, about the company and about yourself.
  • stay calm and focused on your goals, and believe in yourself and your abilities. don’t be afraid of being great, and don’t be afraid of letting people know it. 

i really hope these could be of use to anybody, if there’s any tips you guys need for job huting let me know, i’ve done a lot of it!

Doomed — Min Yoongi

Words: 5390

Warnings: demon!Yoongi + angst + filthy smut + fluff

Description: Arent people supposed to be scared when they find out that a demon has been stalking them?

This amazing moodboard was created by @candys-and-moons so everyone go follow them right now!!! They’re amazing :)

[01] [02] [03] [04] [05] [06]

Let me know if I should make a part two to this :)

~

Everyone gets that feeling when they feel that someone is watching them. Monitoring everything they do. Stalking them.

That’s how you felt almost everyday. It was as if someone was actually watching you. Or spying on you.

You began to think like this since you were little. About 10 years old. Whenever you were somewhere, you felt a presence, even when you were alone. It was like someone was always there with you. It started off simple, but got worse and creepier as you grew older.

When you were 13, you couldn’t stand being home alone, because you always felt that someone was going to come for you. You would hear strange noises such as people talking when you were home alone, cabinets closing on their own, footsteps when no one else was home.

By age 15, you watched a lot of horror movies, and deemed your experiences as “being haunted.” You were sure that you were being haunted by a ghost, or something like a ghost. There were no other explanations for the things that’s been happening to you.

You told your friends and your parents, but no one believed you. Everyone thought you were either joking, or just crazy.

When you were 16, you asked your parents to get paranormal experts to come to your house and see what was going on. Your parents were reluctant at first, telling you that maybe a therapist should come to the house instead. But you kept asking them, telling them that you were so scared that something might happen to you. And then they finally called the experts.

When they came, the concluded that there was nothing paranormal going on inside of your house, giving your parents another reason not believe anything you said.

Even though the “experts” said that there was nothing, you knew there was something. You always knew that there was something going on. You weren’t crazy, no matter how much people tell you that you are.

You will never forget about when you were 18. You were almost finished with school. You remember sitting in an empty classroom one day during your free period. You studied for a huge test that you had to take.

The room was quiet at first, but then you heard a quiet tap on the window. You didn’t think much of it, thinking that it was probably just a tree branch or something.

Then it happened again. And again. And again. This continued for about two minutes before it started upsetting you. You groaned and tried to concentrate on studying. Once you groaned, the sound stopped. It was probably just a coincidence.

It didn’t stop there. You heard something fall down. It was a light sound, but you still heard it. You looked around the room to see what it was. There was a piece of chalk rolling towards you.

You raised and eyebrow. How did the chalk fall if nothing was touching it?

You stood up, picking up the piece of chalk that had fallen. You walked to the chalk board and placed the piece of chalk onto the teacher’s desk.

You turned around, dusted your hands off and started walking back to your seat.

And that’s when you heard it. The sound of the chalk falling again. You thought nothing of it. The teachers desk was probably just slanted, which is why the chalk keeps falling off. But why didn’t anything else on the desk fall off?

You turned around, bending down to pick up the chalk once again. You stood up, holding the piece of white chalk and as you looked up, you saw something strange.

The chalkboard had something written on it.

“Specto tu. Protinus te videre, XXI.”

Those words were not on the board before. How did it get there? Who wrote it? What the hell did it even say?

You thanked god for modern technology as you took out your cellphone and took a picture of the words written on the chalkboard. You put the picture into a translator website and waited for it to do its magic.

As the page loaded, you read what the words had translated to.

“I’m watching you. See you soon, 21.”

If you weren’t already creeped out before, you were ten times more creeped out now.

Without even thinking about it, you packed up your books and left the room, not looking back.

Who wrote that? Who’s watching you?

The answers to you questions went unanswered for years after that. You were always so curious.

You were 20 years old when you moved out of your parents house and into your own apartment.

The strange things never stopped. On multiple occasions when you would walk into your apartment, you would see lights that were turned on (and you were sure that you had turned them off), cabinets were open, loose papers were scattered all over your desk. You were a very clean and organized person, so you knew that it couldn’t have been you.

Getting a surveillance camera installed in your house didn’t help, as much as you really wanted it to. It just gave you more reason to believe your 15 year old self when you said that something paranormal was going on.

When you got home from work, you would check your camera, seeing if anything happened.

Of course something happened.

The cabinets opened—by themselves. The drawers in your desk opened and papers flew out of them, creating a big mess. The light switched flicked on, on their own.

You were terrified. Something was haunting you and you wanted to know why.

Today was your 21st birthday.

You spent the day shopping with your friends. You weren’t really a party girl, so you decided to do something less wild and more fun. Shopping is always fun.

“This would look really nice on you, y/n!” One of your friends smiled, giving you a cute pink dress that she had picked up.

It was cute, but it wasn’t really your style, so you put it back as you friend walked to go look at other clothes. After returning the dress to the rack that it had previously been on, you turned around, only to bump into someone.

“I’m so sorry.” You apologized. It was a man. He had jet black hair and dark brown eyes. He was quite handsome.

“Don’t be sorry. It was my fault.” He says, patting his clothes as he stood in front of you.

You two stood there, just looking at each other for a couple of seconds. He stared into your eyes. It was like he could see right through your soul. You couldn’t look away. It was like you were dazed.

“Y/n, come on. Let’s go to another shop.” Your friend calls. You blinked a few times, snapping out of your daze.

You walked away from the man, following as your friends walked out of the shop.

He seemed so familiar, but you were sure you hadn’t seen him before. You’d never seen him in real life, or even pictures, so why did he seem familiar?


You closed the door of your apartment and took your shoes off, placing them beside the door.

You and your friends had a good time out, shopping, eating and gossiping. It was like you were in high school all over again. You missed hanging out with them all the time.

You plopped down on the couch, grabbing the tv remote and pressing the button to turn it on.

You pressed the button, but nothing happened. You pressed it over and over again, but nothing. Maybe the batteries were out?

Just then, you felt something brush past your leg. Without thinking, you yelped and placed your feet on the couch, looking down at what had touched you.

It was a cat.

What was a cat doing in your apartment?

The cat looked up at you. It had black fur and brown eyes.

“What are you doing in here?” You asked the cat, as if it would talk back. You stood up, still looking down at the cat.

“I should get you out of here. Your owner is probably looking for you.” You say, putting your arms out, but then retracting them, not knowing if you should touch the cat.

Suddenly, something happened. You weren’t sure what it was exactly, but all you saw was a flash of white and then something stood in front of you. It wasn’t the cat.

It was a man.

You screamed and ran into your bedroom, scared for your life. You didn’t bother to look at the man, you were too terrified.

You closed your bedroom door as you entered, locking it.

What the hell just happened?

“Y/n.” You heard a voice say. The voice was kind of deep. You were too scared to reply. How did he even know your name?

“Y/n, I hope you know that locking the door isn’t going to stop me from coming in.” The man says.

You stayed silent. You didn’t know what to say. What were you supposed to say?

You heard no more noise on the other side of the door, but you were still scared.

Then, you felt a tap on your shoulder. You didn’t want to turn around, but your feet had it’s own plans.

You turned around, coming face to face with—

The man from earlier. The one from the shop. The one that you bumped into.

Your eyes widened.

You backed up, hoping that you could run away, but for every step you took back, he took a step towards you.

“Why are you here? Why were you a cat? How were you a cat? Who are you? What are you?” You asked. You had so many questions and they all came out at the same time.

“I’d rather not show you my actual form, for your sake. And do you know how much strength it takes to shift into a cat? You should be praising me. I’m so tired right now.” The man complained.

What was his “actual form”?

“What are you?” You repeated your question.

“A demon.” He said. “Yeah, right.” You say, not believing him. The man chuckled before closing his eyes. What was he doing?

As he opened his eyes, his dark brown eye color was no longer there. Now his pupils were a fiery red color.

You yelled and tried to run away, but he held your arms, not letting you move.

“Let go of me!” You yelled.

“Y/n, calm down.” He says, his eyes going back to their original color. “How am I supposed to calm down? You—you just—I can't—” you stuttered, not knowing what to say.

He stared into your eyes and you felt yourself calming down. It was like he casted a spell on you or something.

“Did you just cast a spell on me? Are you a witch too?” You ask, not able to take your eyes off of his.

He chuckled. “I’m not a witch. I’m a demon. A handsome one.”

You wish you could roll your eyes at his comment. “Who are you?” You ask. “And why do you seem so familiar? I’m almost one-hundred percent sure that we’ve never met.”

“Y/n, I’ve been with you since you were young. Don’t you remember me? Haven’t you got my little notes and messages?” He asks you.

“What messages?”

“Specto tu. Protinus te videre, XXI.” He spoke.

Your eyes widened. That’s what was written on the chalkboard that day you were in school! “You wrote that? How? Why? Why couldn’t I see you?”

“Being a demon surprisingly has its many perks. One of them being invisibility. And it was a reminder. Didn’t you translate it?” He asked you.

“It said I’m watching you. And see you soon. Then it said twenty one.” You say.

“I was watching you. I’ve always been watching you. And it was a reminder because I’d see you on your twenty-first birthday, which is today.” He explains, letting go of your hands. “Happy Birthday, by the way.”

It was him. He was the thing that was always with you. The thing that creeped you out. The thing that you always knew was watching you.

You brought your hand up to his face and slapped him, anger filling you.

His eyes widened and he held his cheek in pain. “What was that for?” He asks.

“You! You’re the reason that I spent almost eleven years of my life scared to death! I was always so scared, and it was because of you! You messed me up, man.” You explained.

“I’m sorry?” He said, but it sounded more like a question.

You slapped him again.

“What was that one for?” He asks.

“That’s for messing up my house when I’m not home. You always leave my lights on. And you leave my cabinets open. And all of my papers are always all over my desk.” You say.

“I’m sorry. I get bored sometimes when you’re not home.” He admits.

“Who are you?” You ask.

“I’m Yoongi. Min Yoongi. You’re y/n y/l/n.” He finally introduces himself.

“Well, Min Yoongi. You’ve been stalking me for eleven years, why?” You question.

People supposed to be scared when they find out that a demon has been stalking them for so long, so, why didn’t you feel scared?

“You’re interesting.” He says, simply.

You rolled your eyes, finally out of his spell, or whatever it was.

After a moment of silence, Yoongi spoke up. “I’m not here to hurt you, so if you’re scared of me, you don’t have to be. Although, I’m not getting any scared vibes from you. You’re not scared of me?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe I am. I just think that I was more scared when I didn’t know who or what you were.” You admit.

“Really? Then maybe I should erase your memory.” He smirked.

“No. No way.” You say. “I was joking.” He chuckled. “Or was I?”

“Min Yoongi I swear to—” you started. “Don’t say it.” He warns you, eyes turning red.

“Sorry. Sorry.” You apologized, looking down at the floor so you wouldn’t have to look into his eyes.

Yoongi took a deep breath before speaking again. “You should go to bed. It’s late.”

“It’s 6 pm.” You tell him.

“So? It’s never too early to go to sleep.”

You shook your head before opening your bedroom door and walking out into your living room.

“What are you still doing here? Leave!” You hear Yoongi say. He wasn’t talking to you, so who was he talking to?

You turned around to look at him, but he was facing the kitchen. In the kitchen stood another man. He looked the same age as Yoongi, maybe younger. He had orangish/reddish hair. You noticed something. In front of him, on the counter was a cake. That wasn’t there before.

“Who is this?” You asked.

“I’m Hoseok.” The boy with the orange hair smiled at you, walking over to where you and Yoongi were standing. “I’m Yoongi’s friend.”

“Hi.” You said before looking at Yoongi. “So what? Is my house like a demon magnet now?”

“Hoseok, get out.” Yoongi said, not answering your question.

Hoseok sighed and looked at you. “It was nice to meet you. Bye.” He smiled before you saw a flash of white. He was gone.

You looked over to where the cake was. Yoongi saw where you were looking and spoke. “It’s yours.” He says.

“Is it?” You asked, walking over to the cake.

“I told Hoseok to bring it for you. It looks good, right?” He asks.

You saw what was written on the cake and smiled.

“Happy Birthday, y/n.”

“As long as you share it with me, I promise I won’t trash your house anymore.” He smiled.

Despite being a demon, Yoongi was a nice guy. Maybe you wouldn’t mind having him around.


“We need to have another girl’s day out.” Your friend says. She was sitting beside you on the couch in your apartment.

“Yeah. I want to hang out with you and the rest of the girls more.” You tell her.

“We should go to a club or something.” She suggested.

A club? “I don’t think so.” You say. You weren’t really a fan of going to the club. The club is just a place where random guys try to hit on you all night, and you didn’t want to go through that.

“Oh, come on, y/n. Don’t be such a party pooper. We could go out to the club and have fun. You could meet a guy there!” She persisted.

“Why would I want to meet a guy there?” You asked.

“Y/n, you haven’t gotten laid in like a year. You need to meet a guy so you two can hook up! You really need some d—” Your friend explained, but was cut off by someone else talking over her.

“What’s this talk about y/n needing to meet a guy?” The person asked. You recognized the voice and turned around to see Yoongi.

“Y/n, who is this?” Your friend asks.

“This is—” You started. “I’m Yoongi. Y/n’s boyfriend.” Yoongi finished for you.

Your boyfriend? Since when?

“Y/n! How could you not tell me that you have a boyfriend?” Your friend questions.

“I’m sorry, y/f/n.” You looked at your friend. “I wasn’t planned on letting you meet him. He promised me that he would stay in my bedroom while you came over.” You looked back at Yoongi.

“Sorry. I got bored in there.” He shrugs. “Y/f/n, would you mind coming back another time? I need to speak to y/n about something.”

“No problem. I’ll be on my way.” Y/f/n says, before getting up and walking to the door. She winked at you before leaving and closing the door behind her.

You turned around, only to see that Yoongi was closer to you than he was before. “You’re my boyfriend?” You asked. “Since when?”

“Since now.” He states. “Is it true?” He asked, not giving you time to respond to his statement.

“Is what true?”

“She said you haven’t been laid in a year. Is that true?”

“Does that matter to you?” You ask, raising your eyebrow. Why did he want to know?

“Just tell me.”

“What if it is true? Why do you need to know?”

Yoongi took two slow steps towards you so he was now standing on front of you with barely any space between you.

Would it be wrong to say he looked really hot right now?

While living with Yoongi, you can’t help but look at him sometimes. Like the times you two are just talking to each other and he smiles. You like his smile. A lot.

And the times he would come out of the bathroom only wearing boxers. His hair would be wet and he looks so good. You didn’t know if it was okay for you to think about him this way.

“You seriously went that long without getting laid? You went that long without letting someone touch you? Pleasure you?” He asks. As he spoke, you felt his warm breath on your lips. “It’s been about three months since I revealed myself to you. We spend like all day together, so why haven’t you told me?”

“Can we not talk about this? It’s embarrassing.” You say, turning around so you could walk away. When you turned around, Yoongi grabbed one of your arms and turned you back to face him.

“Yoongi, I—” You started, but Yoongi looked into your eyes and suddenly you couldn’t say anything. He was controlling you.

For about thirty seconds, he just stared into your eyes, and you were unable to say or do anything else.

Yoongi put his fingers on your chin and lifted your head up. He almost instantly lowered his head and attached his lips to your neck.

His actions made your eyes widen. “Y-Yoongi.” You stuttered, finally able to speak again.

He hummed in response and started kissing and sucking on your neck. It felt unbelievably good.

“Yoongi. Yoongi, wait.” You spoke, putting your hands on his shoulders and pushing him away. He looked at you and raised an eyebrow. “Why are you doing this?” You asked him.

“You don’t want me to do it?” He asks. “I-I didn’t say that. I just—” You started. “Then shut up and let me do what I need to do.” He speaks over you, pressing his lips against yours after he finished talking.

His lips felt so good against yours. You didn’t realize how much you liked his lips until this moment.

Yoongi held your waist with one hand, pulling you against him. You used one hand to run fingers through his hair and the other hand was still rested on his shoulder.

His tongue entered your mouth, exploring it and even meeting with your tongue.

You lightly tugged on his hair, causing him to groan into your mouth. Hearing him groan sent waves of pleasure down your body. You wanted more.

Yoongi pulled away from you, removing your shirt and his shirt before placing his lips back on yours.

You placed one of your hands on his neck, slowly trailing down to his chest, and then to the bulge that was evident in his pants.

You palmed him through the black sweatpants he wore and once again, he groaned into your mouth.

Yoongi placed his hand at the hem of your pants and pushed them down. You stopped out of them, now only left in your bra and underwear.

You pushed Yoongi’s sweatpants and boxers down and he stepped out of them before breaking away from you and sitting down on the couch.

“On your knees, baby girl.” He says to you. You did as told and got on your knees, coming face to face with his length. Yoongi leaned forward and removed your bra before speaking. “Be a good girl and suck.”

You nodded before putting one of your hands on his length, stroking it a couple of times before putting your lips around the tip. You decide to tease him by licking and sucking the tip, and only the tip.

“If you keep teasing me like that, you’re gonna be in big trouble, y/n.” Yoongi speaks in a stern voice. Trying to push his buttons, you continued to do what you were doing.

Yoongi got fed up and placed his hand on the back of your head. “It seems like you want trouble.” He says before pushing your head down onto his length. You took more of him in your mouth. He began thrusting his hips into your mouth, making you take in all of it.

The back of you throat stung, but you loved every second of it. “You love it when I do this, don’t you, y/n?” Yoongi asked, as if you could answer.

Suddenly, he pulled you off of him, standing up and picking you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist so you wouldn’t fall.

He walked to your bedroom, and while he walked, you felt his length brush against your core, which was still covered by your underwear. You sucked in a breath at the contact, causing Yoongi to laugh.

When he got you your room, Yoongi rested you on the bed, wasting no time before getting on top of you and attacking your lips with his.

Yoongi used this position as an advantage to grind down onto your clothed core, causing you to moan inside of his mouth. He chuckled before removing his lips from yours and putting them on one of your breasts. He used one of his hands to touch the breast that his lips weren’t on. He alternated between both breasts. You loved the feeling he was giving you.

Yoongi looked up at you, pressing his lips to yours as he slid your underwear off, both of you were both completely naked now.

“I’ve wanted to do this to you for so long, baby.” Yoongi admits before running his fingers up and down your folds. “You’re so wet for me. I love it, babe.”

You moaned as he stuck two fingers into you, not giving you time to adjust to them. Since you were so wet, his fingers glided in and out easily. He curled his fingers inside of you, touching the special spot that make you gasp.

“Yoongi.” You moaned. “What is it, baby girl?” He asks.

You just wanted him inside of you already.

You moaned again and since you didn’t answer his question, Yoongi spoke again. “Use your words, baby. Unless you’re not going to get what you want.” He smirked.

“You’re such a tease.” You say as his fingers kept going in and out of you. “I’m just getting started.” He says, pressing his fingers against your spot.

“Yoongi! Fuck!” You yelled, shutting your eyes tightly. “What do you want, baby girl?” He asks.

“I want you, inside of me.” You said. “I am inside of you.” He said.

“No. I want your cock inside of me. Right now, Yoongi.” You finally say. “You want my cock? Beg for it, baby.” He responds.

“Please, Yoongi.  I can’t wait anymore. I need to fuck me right now. I’m so wet for you. Please.” You begged. “Well, since you asked so nicely.” He smiled, taking his fingers out of you.

He kissed your lips before aligning his length with your entrance. He gave you no time to prepare, or get used to it as he slid inside of you and began to thrust in and out of you at a fast pace.

He used one hand to prop himself up and placed the other hand on your thigh, gripping it as he easily pushed and pulled himself in and out of you.

He angled his hips a certain way and his length repeatedly pressed against your special spot as he went inside of you. “Oh my—yoongi!” You yelled, enjoying the pleasure that was being given to you.

“You like that? You like when I fuck you like this, y/n?” He asks before placing his lips on your neck.

He continued to thrust in and out of you at a fast pace. You were basically shaking from pleasure underneath him.

“Yoongi, I’m so close.” You informed him, feeling your orgasm reach closer and closer.

“I’m not letting you cum that easily. Beg me if you want to cum.” He tells you, looking at you.

You shook your head, teasing him.

Yoongi raised an eyebrow, shocked that you refused to obey him in a situation like this.

“Beg me.” He repeats himself.

You closed your eyes and bit your lip, holding back any sounds that would come from your mouth.

Yoongi suddenly pulled himself out of you completely before turning you so that you were laying with your stomach against the bed.

“On your hands and knees.” He instructs. You listened and did as told, having your ass on full display for him.

“I can’t believe you were being such a bad girl just then.” Yoongi says, rubbing both of your ass cheeks with his hands. “Do you know what bad girls get?” He asks.

You shook your head. “Bad girls get punished.” He tells you, just as you felt a sharp pain on your butt cheek.

“Never.” *spank* “Disobey.” *spank* “Me.” *spank* “Again.” *spank*

He spanked you a couple more times and surprisingly, the pain felt good to you. You loved it.

You laid there, taking the hits. A few tears escaped your eyes, but it didn’t matter to you. You loved everything that was happening.

When Yoongi was finished, he caressed your cheeks, running his hands over all the spots he hit.

He flipped you back around without warning, almost immediately slamming his length back into you, causing you to scream out his name.

“I know you want to cum, so you better beg me.” He said into your ear. It sounded more like a growl, which turned you on even more. Your orgasm was so close.

“Please let me cum, Yoongi. It’s so close. You make me feel so good, baby. I need you to let me cum.” You begged, tired of waiting.

Yoongi smirked pressed a quick kiss against your lips before looking at you.

“You can cum, princess. Cum all over me, baby.” He spoke while thrusting in and out of you, again at a fast pace. “Just make sure you look at me while you cum, okay? Keep your eyes open for me, baby.”

You moaned, feeling your orgasm come closer and closer until you felt the tight knot in your stomach finally unravel. Your orgasm washed over you, taking you into a state of pure bliss.

You looked into Yoongi’s eyes as you came, obeying what he said before. You had the urge to close your eyes, but Yoongi stared into yours, not letting you close them.

“Fuck, Yoongi.” You breathed. “I’m close, y/n.” Yoongi tells you as he continued thrusting.

You began to tremble from overstimulation, but you loved every second of it.

Yoongi let out a string of curse words as you finally felt him release inside of you. His warm liquid filled you up.

He thrusted slowly, a few more times before pulling out of you and laying down beside you.

The room was filled with nothing more than the sound of the two of you trying to catch your breaths.

“That was amazing.” You admit, turning your head to look at the man beside you. As you looked at him, you saw that he was already looking at you.

“You can say that again.” He smiles at you.

“That was amaz—” You started again. “Don’t actually say it again.” Yoongi says, playfully rolling his eyes.

You giggled as he wrapped his arms around you, pulling you closer to him. You rested your head on his chest.

“Yoongi,” you started, looking up at him. “Yes, baby girl?” He asked.

“I know you’re a demon and everything, but can demons have relationships? Or is that like, against the demon code or something?” You asked him.

“You want a relationship?” He asked you. “Do you?” You ask.

Yoongi nodded and you smiled. “Then yes.” You spoke, biting your lip.

“Y/n, do you want to be my girlfriend?” He asks.

“Yes.” You nodded and Yoongi smiled at you.

Without telling you what he was doing, Yoongi brought one of his wrists up to his mouth and bit down, hard.

You raised an eyebrow, confused, but deciding not to ask any questions yet.

When he pulled away from his wrist, you saw the blood leaking from his arm.

He placed his bleeding wrist in front of your mouth. “Drink.” He instructs.

“Okay, you’ve asked me to do a lot of stuff today. This is the weirdest one.” You admit.

“Just do it. If you don’t hurry up, blood is going to get all over your sheets and I’m not washing them.” He tells you.

You rolled your eyes before opening your mouth. Yoongi pushed his wrist to your mouth and you licked the blood off of it, swallowing it.

When he pulled his wrist away, it wasn’t bleeding anymore. He smiled and looked at you, putting his index finger and thumb on your chin. He brought your mouth up to his and kissed you.

“So what am I now?” You asked as you pulled away from his lips. “Am I demon now? Or am I a vampire or something? I think I saw something like this on the Vampire Diaries one time.” You tell him.

“You’re still human.” Yoongi chuckled.

“What?” You ask. “So I drank your blood for no reason?” You pouted.

“It was for a reason. Your mine now, and if anything or anyone who’s supernatural gets close to you, they’ll know that you’re mine.” He explains.

“So you marked me?” You asked and he nodded.

“This is cool. Who would’ve thought that the thing that was haunting me for eleven years was actually a really cute demon who I like very much.” You say.

Yoongi playfully rolled his eyes.

“Go to sleep, loser.”

rocknrollphanda  asked:

Could you maybe make a list of your favorite 8th year drarry? I read Lumos and now I need more so I was wondering if you had anything worth recommending ;D?

Good to Me (And I’d Be So Good to You) by AWickedMemory (ReadyPlayerZero) Words:8905

Everyone returns to Hogwarts after the war, but nothing is quite the same. Harry’s groupies are creepier than ever, Ron and Hermione are snogging all over the place, and the once-proud Draco is shuffling around like a kicked puppy. But that’s okay: Harry’s got a plan.

Battle Scars by SeaweedPrincess Words:29831

Spiders, rats, wrongly-boiled Veritaserum, a couple of dangerous bets and drunk parties – all with all, it was bound to be a hectic eight year at Hogwarts for the golden trio. Trying to ignore the ex-Death Eater Draco Malfoy, however, turned out to be more difficult than ever before. Especially when he seemed to be as obsessed with Harry as Harry was with him. DRARRY. SLASH. Rating may go up in future chapters.

Then Comes a Mist and a Weeping Rain by Faith Wood (faithwood) Words:21139

It always rains for Draco Malfoy. Metaphorically. And literally. Ever since he had accidentally Conjured a cloud. A cloud that’s ever so cross.

Hey, Potter by SunseticMonster Words:16024

Harry returns to Hogwarts for his 8th year, determined not to let Malfoy get to him. But when the snarky teasing starts up again, Harry finds that returning the jibes with compliments has a far more interesting outcome.

Lumos by birdsofshore Words:41478

Harry never expected to spend eighth year listening to Draco Malfoy wanking.

Zero to Hero by Cheryl Dyson Words: 10,632

Harry returns to Hogwarts for his “8th year” in order to pass his N.E.W.T.s and make it into the Auror program. One of his classes is Muggle Studies and the new teacher has a brilliant idea to help them appreciate certain forms of Muggle entertainment.

The Ties That Bind Us by Faith Wood (faithwood) Words:27890

An accident leaves Draco and Harry bound tightly together. Literally.

Matters of Influence by anathema91 Words:19198

Draco should have taken his NEWTs over the summer with Pansy and Greg. Repeating 7th year with Potter fresh off his saved-the-world tour struck Malfoy as the height of stupidity more than once. McGonagall’s diabolical plan only made things worse. Or did it?

A Time to Move On by SESHETA_66 Words:15500

With the war behind them, and wounds still raw, the students at Hogwarts try to work out what their futures might hold for them, and perhaps recapture a little of their lost youth along the way.

Lucky Break by naturegirlrocks Words:4700

The day before Halloween Harry crashes into Draco during a friendly quidditch match. Hidden secrets come to light.

An Old Habit by fireflavored Words:8800

The boys have changed a lot over the summer after the war, but Harry hasn’t gotten over the urge to spy on Malfoy.

Simulacrum by slashpervert Words:3011

Draco sends a gift to Potter and finds himself in a difficult but erotic position.

Snowstorms and Interventions by fr333bird Words:9095

Draco is pining after Harry, but is so sure that his feelings aren’t reciprocated that he wastes a golden opportunity. Pansy comes to the rescue and takes matters into her own hands to ensure a happy ending.

Marginal Notes by blamebrampton Words:9398

When you’re 18, and nothing is as it was meant to be, sometimes it can be hard to let the right people know what you are thinking.

An Act of Simple Devotion by blamebrampton Words:13368

It’s a age-old story. You fancy a boy and you think he fancies you. Sure there are problems – attacks on former Death Eaters, crazed tabloid journalists and your girlfriend – but you have a cunning plan. Now if he’d only explain the L. Ron Hubbard-like references …

Say Anything by alovelycupoftea Words:6000

When Draco loses his reserve and starts speaking his mind, Harry realises something is very wrong.

Deserving by Cassis Luna Words:2612

From the prompt: “What if one day everyone was brewing Amortentia and Harry walks in. Of course, he doesn’t know what they’re brewing, so the first thing he says is ‘Why does the room smell like it’s drenched in Malfoy’s cologne’ and then everyone, including Draco, just looks at him.

Right Hand Red by lumosed_quill Words:73173

Harry felt Malfoy’s breath on his lips as they came together over the bottle, hands firmly planted on the floor as though they each needed their familiar soil, refusing to cross into enemy territory. Except that Malfoy no longer felt like his enemy.

Malfoy felt inevitable.

Games Night by agentmoppet Words:6805

Harry has no idea why Hermione decided that an inter-house Games Night would be a good idea, but he’s here now, and he intends to beat Malfoy, no matter what game he chooses. But, who would have thought muggle games could be full of so much… tension?

Dear Diary by AWickedMemory (ReadyPlayerZero) Words:20427

After the war, Harry picks up a journal to write in… and it writes back. Luckily, it’s not a Horcrux on the other end this time.

Days Before You Came by panicparade Words:5476

Ten days before the end of his Eighth year at Hogwarts is when Harry realises that he probably, maybe, loves Draco Malfoy.

Who I Really Am by agentmoppet Words:8541

Draco seems to have changed since the war, and is insisting on making amends for his actions. But he’s still a Malfoy, for heaven’s sake… And, it would seem, a Malfoy with a certain kink…

The Standard You Walk Past by bafflinghaze Words:46201

On returning to Hogwarts for their Eighth Year, Headmistress McGonagall decided to room Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter together. She may have hoped for a leading example of house unity; the other students fully expected insults and fights. But nothing happened.

That was, until Harry sleepwalked into Draco’s bed.

Good Company by Greenflares Words:8223

With Hermione and Ron always together, Harry’s return to Hogwarts to complete his education isn’t exactly fun. Somehow, it’s his unlikely friendship with Malfoy that keeps him sane.

Instruction For A Misplaced Slytherin by bixgirl1 Words:8579

Potter stared at him with an intense, indecipherable expression. He cleared his throat. “You know what? It would be easier to learn if you just showed me,” he said abruptly.

In which Draco has a crush but fancies himself kind, Harry is oblivious but overly ambitious (and the teensiest bit sneaky), and things get dirty really fast.

Slammed by Faith Wood (faithwood) Words:2038

Potter develops a worrying habit of randomly wall-slamming Draco all over the castle.

Mental by sara_holmes Words:186678

Harry has had quite enough of sharing his mind with someone else, thankyouverymuch. A miscast Legilimecy spell says otherwise.

‘Ohana by plumeria47 Words:11717

It started off so simple: sex whenever they wanted it, with no further expectations. But life has a funny way of turning everything up on its head.

This Is Fine by yesbocchan Words:3177

Eighth years have their own rooms at Hogwarts. It’s nice, Draco thinks, until he starts to notice the fact that Potter’s room is just in front of his.

The Morning After The Night Before by Oakstone730
Words:3599

Waking up after the Hufflepuff New Year’s Eve Party is an eye-opening experience for Draco. Prompt: Walk of Shame. Eighth Year. Warnings: Slash, Explicit, Language.

He Had Time by jeni_andtheafterthought Words:689

Harry stays up late alone in the eighth year common room until one night, Malfoy joins him.

Alive by FleetofShippyShips Words:3185

After the war, Harry is just angry, until finally, he’s not.

Vanilla and Sweet Spices by FleetofShippyShips Words:19699

After the others leave an eighth year party, Harry still has the rum he snagged off Dean. But the only person left to drink it with is Draco Malfoy.

Making Malfoy Blush by FleetofShippyShips Words:18320

Malfoy walks in on Harry in the showers after Quidditch and is surprisingly flustered. Spying the chance to embarrass him, Harry teases him at every opportunity to bring that blush back.

It’s all harmless winks and lip biting, and maybe a few heated looks; until it’s a kiss, and then another, and then Harry realises he never wants to stop.

If only Malfoy was as clear about what he wants.

The LipLock Jinx by Cassis Luna Words: 21436

It’s a jinx that renders the victim mute, unless he/she serves the purpose of the jinx and kisses the person that they desire. It’s just Harry’s luck that he’s in love with Draco. HPDM, oneshot, eighth year.

The Potter-Malfoy Problem by who_la_hoop Words:28939

The room of requirement’s gone mad — at least, that’s what Harry thinks. There’s no way that Draco Malfoy ‘requires’ him, of all people, but why does it keep dragging Harry there like he’s some kind of furniture, every time Malfoy enters it? Throw in Pansy the pervert and a clipboard-wielding Hermione, and things can only go from bad to worse. And that’s not even mentioning the pirates …

At Your Service by Faith Wood (faithwood) Words:95752  

Hogwarts students are in danger; Harry is determined to save them all. There’s only one thing he knows for certain: Draco Malfoy is somehow involved.

ENJOY!

physics doesn’t have to suck: how to enjoy and do well in your required physics classes

As someone who doesn’t intend to take a physics class ever again, I was relieved when I walked out of my second semester physics final. That said, physics doesn’t have to suck or drag your average down. 

(1) How to enjoy physics: Adjust your attitude. Physics is so cool if you actually think about it. Your attitude will dictate your experience. (2) But physics is so hard: Change the way you study and don’t give up. I did better in university physics than in high school. The content was way more difficult but it was my studying methods that made the difference.

This post is split into 3 parts: Introductory physics (very basic physics, that unit of physics you had to do in a lower level science class), high school physics (physics from an algebra-based perspective), and university physics (calculus-based physics and labs). (Obviously these overlap a lot but I needed to organize this somehow)

INFO IS UNDER THE CUT B/C THIS POST IS RIDICULOUSLY LONG

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Q&A Cristina, Kieran, Mark and the politics of trust

“clockwork-artifices said: Hello, Cassie. I<3 Cristina, so i wanted to ask about her. She’s been described as someone who’s been hurt and betrayed in the past (and recently), therefore she doesn’t really trust people that easily now, so with that in mind i couldn’t totally understand 

spoilers

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“He had a handful of my ass. I know it was him.”

Taylor Swift is a pop star, one of music’s most savvy businesswomen and a $280 million brand.

And yet, she was none of those things yesterday in a Denver courtroom, where she testified against a man who she says groped her at a 2013 meet-and-greet. Swift was just another woman in a world that requires women to insist — to prove, over and over again — that their experience qualifies as truth. In a world that decides, off the bat, that women are crazy or mendacious or simply wrong. And so Swift insisted, more times than anyone should have to and in increasingly descriptive terms, that a former radio DJ had the audacity to put his hand under her skirt and violate her.

On the stand in the civil trial in Denver, Swift identified former radio DJ David Mueller as the man who grabbed her, in front of fans and cameras, when they posed for a photo at that city’s Pepsi Arena. After her camp reported the incident to his employer, he was fired. Mueller then sued her, alleging her accusation was false and unfairly cost him his job. He contends it was a jostle, that someone else did it and also that he believed his hand was on her rib. Swift has countersued, arguing that he, in fact, had assaulted her.

On Friday evening, U.S. District Judge William Martinez threw out Mueller’s case against Swift, citing insufficient evidence that she personally caused him to lose his job, according to the Associated Press. The jury will return Monday to consider Mueller’s claims that Swift’s mother and radio promotions representative got him fired; Swift’s claim of assault and battery will also go forward.

Swift was questioned for more than an hour, an hour in which Mueller’s attorney told Swift that she could have taken a break during the meet-and-greet if she was so bothered, but she did not. Her mother testified too, saying that the incident “made me, as a parent, question why I taught her to be so polite.”

Related: Taylor Swift’s mom and I have this common: Neither of us wants to raise a polite daughter anymore

This is the burden women endure — this probing and hand-wringing and point-blank disbelief and shame and self-doubt.

It’s what remains deeply unsettling about the case of Swift, a woman ensconced by bodyguards, a woman nestled in what surely must be the comfortable down pillow of superfame, a woman who also immediately reported the incident to her bodyguards and had Mueller escorted from the arena: Her testimony suggests that even she must struggle to be believed.

Swift was unbowed, lighting the courtroom ablaze:  “It was a definite grab,” she would say. Once his hand found its target, she testified, it “stayed latched on to my bare ass cheek.” Again and again, she described what she says happened. The Denver Post suggested it might have been the highest recorded number of instances of the words “ass” and “cheek” in the courtroom’s history.

Before it was eventually edited, a CNN article described Swift’s testimony as “snarky.” Others described her as aggravated. We’d do better to see Swift’s testimony as what cultural critic Soraya McDonald described recently in the Undefeated as “necessary arrogance.”  It’s necessary because not being believed is the baseline for women. It’s necessary, too, because the photographic evidence of the encounter was sealed by the judge and shown only to the jury in court. (It is possible to see the photo, thanks to the Internet, and perhaps you should.) And like every woman who has found herself in a similar position, all Swift has is her word.

It’s entirely possible she will be the one to prevail, but astonishingly few other women do. For example, her case has striking shades of that of Kristin Anderson. She was the California photographer who, weeks before the election last year, accused then-candidate Donald Trump of lifting her skirt and putting his hands on her vagina. She never pressed charges. (Trump’s spokeswoman called the claim “a phony allegation by someone looking to get some free publicity.”) “You’d have to be a simpleton to believe her,” a commenter on our site wrote.

And Swift’s persistence in this lawsuit should remind us, too, of Barbara Bowman, one of Bill Cosby’s accusers, who maintained her story for decades, despite, she wrote in this paper, “victim blaming.”

Swift’s sure-footedness yesterday recalls the story of Anita Hill, who, during her 1991 Senate testimony about then-nominee to the Supreme Court Clarence Thomas, alleged that Thomas harassed her repeatedly when they worked together. (Thomas denied Hill’s allegations.) “I am not given to fantasy,” Hill said then, amid battering questions about her truthfulness. “This is not something I would have come forward with if I was not absolutely sure of what I was saying.”

There are inklings, too, of the Stanford sexual-assault-case victim, whom a jury did believe. Despite the fact that it convicted Brock Turner, her attacker, on three separate felony charges, the judge fretted publicly that punishing Turner would have a “severe impact” on the young man.

Mueller is also arguing that Swift’s accusation has wrecked his career prospects and his name; for that, he is seeking as much as $3 million from Swift. (She is seeking $1, and in court documents said she filed suit only to “serv[e] as an example to other women who may resist publicly reliving similar outrageous and humiliating acts.”)

In court, asked about the fallout for Mueller, Swift retorted, “I am being blamed for the unfortunate events of his life that are a product of his decisions and not mine.”

It was as if she really was speaking for every woman. And that’s profoundly sad.

(X)

Natural - Bill Skarsgard x Reader

Title: Natural

Pairing: Bill Skarsgard x Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: Imagine Bill seeing you interact with little Jackson on set and realizing he wants to have kids with you.

A/N: (Y/s/n) = Your Superhero Name, Y’all little Georgie is everything! And I’m not the one to easily find kids adorable or say I’d want a kid like that but oh dear!

“Are you sure you’ll be alright?” Bill asked with an adorable frown as he looked down at you and you chuckled, rolling your eyes.

“Bill you don’t have to worry about me, I already have an amazing company!” you grinned, turning to look at Jackson who was barely able to hold all of the comics in his small hands.

“You two will get along perfectly fine.” he breathed out with a small chuckle and you giggled after looking at your small fan and then back at your boyfriend.

“We already are.” you winked “Come on now, go be a big scary clown and don’t get all messy with the blood, children are not like eating chicken and you know it. Bones are bigger and there usually is a whole lot more blood, cause you practically eat them alive and yeah.” you leaned in and pecked his lips as he laughed at you.

“You’re so weird.” he made a funny face but still looked at you with adoration.

“But that’s why you love me.” you breathed out, your hands resting on his chest “And if you need any tips on red lipstick I am always here, baby.” you winked with a giggle and he chuckled.

“You are… amazing.” he breathed out, cupping your face before fully kissing you on the lips.

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THINKING ABOUT TAKING A GAP YEAR?

hi folks! as most of you will know, i’m currently taking a gap year. i’ve received so many questions about this (mostly asking me for advice) so i thought i’d just gather all the questions and the information i’ve gathered and make a little guide about it all! :-) i’ll be going through why i’m taking one, the advantages and disadvantages and what i’ve learned so far!

► what is a gap year?

first thing’s first: what is a gap year? according to the cambridge dictionary, the definition is as follows: ‘a year between leaving school and starting university that is usually spent travelling or working.’ most people will take a year out before starting uni, but it’s also often taken to prevent a burn out or stress from overwork in later years. the reasons for taking a year out before starting uni vary, but the most common reason is to have fun and explore the world before getting down to some serious studying. as a result of this, young people will have a chance to get to know themselves, and the world around them, a lot better. in general it’s seen as a positive thing, although the opportunity can be wasted if the year is spent being lazy and not doing anything interesting.

► why did i decide to take a gap year?

i made a post about this back in july (2016), but i’ll briefly explain this again. in my case, there were a few reasons why i decided to take a gap year instead of going straight to uni after graduating. the first being that the course i want to do is super expensive compared to the normal courses in my town, so my parents wanted me to work and save money to pay for it myself! since i really want to do the course, i totally didn’t mind the idea of working for a year and saving up the money. the second is that i was only 17 when i graduated, so i’d be moving to barcelona at a really young age to study there. that was something my parents and i weren’t so sure about (considering my age). a few other factors are that i wanted to finish my musical education before leaving, i wanted to have some fun and travel a little before studying and that i wanted to feel really ready for the move. 

► should you take a gap year?

i get asked a lot by my followers if i think they should also take one, and i honestly think it’s way too personal to let anyone else decide! you need to think of the reasons why you would want/ need to take a year out first. i suggest you make a list of reasons why and reasons not to. if one list has better reasons, go with that one! i also suggest you talk to your family, teachers or anyone else you know taking one/ or has taken one. but if you need a little more help, i’ve made a little list of the advantages and disadvantages that you can take a look at below.

► what are the advantages?

there are so many so i’ll try my best to list them all!

  • you don’t have to study: for some people this is a huge advantage. if you’re not too keen on studying, taking a gap year provides a nice long break to enjoy before going to uni to study even harder.
  • you can do the things you couldn’t as a student: think about it: you have a whole year to do whatever you want to! as a student you’re bound to certain activities like going to school, studying, etc. now you’re not in school you can travel or pick up a hobby you didn’t have the time for/ the money for/ or just plain couldn’t before!
  • you can experience the working world before your peers: this is an advantage i regard really highly. i’ve been working for almost 8 months now, and i have discovered so many things about the working world that i wouldn’t have otherwise known. you’ll find out how to find real jobs/ go to interviews/ etc before any of your peers. and with that comes the money.
  • → money: if you choose to work. you’ll be payed good money depending on the job, and with that money you’ll be able to travel or buy things you couldn’t before! you can save it for later life too, which will help you out a lot in the long run.
  • you’ll get to know yourself better: if all your friends decide to go to uni, you’ll probably not be able to spend all that much time with them anymore, leading to you being alone more often. but don’t worry! this can be a really good thing. you’ll get to know yourself better, and by working/ travelling/ picking up a hobby you can really work on yourself. i found that high school really messed up my ideas of myself by trying to fit in. you really get the chance to look after yourself better and to nurture your true nature and personality more.

► what are the disadvantages?

when there are advantages, there will always be some disadvantages!

  • you will feel a little isolated sometimes: if you don’t know anyone else taking a gap year, it’s very likely you’ll feel slightly isolated at times. friends going to school or uni will have a very different schedule than you, so you won’t always be able to hang out with them. this is very easily remedied by keeping yourself busy and active though!
  • you might get out of the habit of studying: because you won’t be in school or taking a course, you might find yourself getting out of the old habit of studying. i noticed how fast my hand got tired when writing for example! this isn’t a huge problem, because you can always keep your habits alive by following online courses or learning a new language for fun!
  • you might become less motivated: this sort of ties in with the previous point, but it’s possible you’ll notice yourself get lazier and lose motivation. the habit of routinely studying and doing your assignments won’t really be necessary during a gap year, so it might be hard for you to get back into the swing of things later on.

That’s it! Hopefully this was helpful to some of you!  :-)

+ gap year series

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What Did You Just Call Me? (Bucky X Reader)

Originally posted by totheendofthelinepal

MASTER LIST

PAIRING: Bucky Barnes X Reader
Warnings: Cursing, Violence & PDA
WORD COUNT: 2,712 
SUMMARY: The Avengers come back from a quick mission that ended well for everyone but Y/N. During the whole mission, Bucky babies Y/N since she’s new to the team. When they come back to headquarters she picks a fight with him leading to an actual fight. 


“I can’t believe you.”

“What I do now, Dollface?”

“Don’t doll face me!” Y/N storms out of the elevator with the rest of the Avengers following behind her, “You practically told me to wait in the car like I’m some five-year-old!”

“Well, if you didn’t act like a child then I wouldn’t treat you like one.”

Y/N’s eyes go wide by Bucky Barnes’s statement, somehow he’s able to make her even more pissed than she already is. The two heroes walk side by side further into the Avenger’s headquarter as they bark at one another. People around them notice steam coming out of Y/N’s ears and Bucky’s deadly gaze with the rest of the Avenger gang following behind them awkwardly quiet. Just that display makes everyone near the group go the opposite way. Y/N stops walking and points at her friend with a metal arm while growling in disbelief.

“Excuse me?! Bucky, you’re not my Dad-”

“Woah, save the kinky talk for the bed.”

Tony Starks blurts out making the two fighting look at him like they’re about to attack. James Rhodes sends his best friend a knowing look before shrugging and continuing to walk beside him. Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton are walking behind Tony and James with bored expressions as if they been through this argument with each other before. Wanda Maximoff and Vision walk beside the assassins like they wanted nothing but leave the scene in front of them. Sam Wilson then sends Steve Rogers a glance silently telling him that maybe they should intervene but Steve just watches them like this is a casual conversation. Bruce Banner, Thor Odinson, and Peter Parker are the last ones to leave the elevator. All three look innocently confused on what is going on here. The whole team is decked out in their now dirty suits and used weapons. Sending Tony an irritated glance Y/N snaps with venom.

“Tony. For the last time, we’re just friends!”

“Could have fooled me.” He mumbles to himself making Y/N face go red causing him to raise his hands up in defeat and adding, “Sorry, my bad.”

“Sure you are.”

Y/N rolls her eye knowing he’ll make another joke about them in a minute. He’s been making comments like that ever since she joined the Avengers and grew a friendship with Bucky. She knows the group secretly thinks something is going on between the two them. That’s more because Bucky doesn’t make friends, Steve was the only person who qualified as a friend to Bucky before Y/N got into the picture. When Y/N joined she hit it off with everyone, more with the Winter Soldier than with anyone else though. It was a problem in the beginning since the group treated her like they had to keep her safe at all times but after a few weeks, everyone realized she didn’t need protection. Well, everyone realized that besides Bucky. Which is why they are at each other’s throats right now because during the whole mission the team was on only moments ago Bucky had treated her like another civilian. Chucking her gun carelessly on a couch near by Y/N shouts at Bucky without looking at him.

“I’m going to say this one last time, Bucky Barnes. I don’t need a fucking babysitter.”

“Why are you mad at me?” He looks around the building confused before saying with some serious guts, “It’s not my fault you’re fragile.”

“Oh shit.”

“God… Bucky… No.”

“Are you trying to get your ass kicked?”

“What did you just call me?”

Y/N shouts before flipping over a table and turning to face him with an unreadable expression, she’s never looked more deadly than right now. To be honest, no one besides Bucky really knows Y/N, she’s only been an Avenger for a few months now and she spends most her time with him. Nevertheless, it’s no secret that Y/N gets mad a lot, a least once a day she’s pissed about something. Yesterday it was because of her coffee split, today it’s because Bucky called her fragile but this was a different kind of mad that none of them have ever seen. It was close to when Bruce gets scary kind of mad and turns into Hulk. So out of a force of habit, the whole team stills and watches them with their weapons at the ready. The whole room is now empty of normal people, good thing too because at this moment Bucky and Y/N are wild cards.

“You’re calling ME fragile?!” Y/N snap as she shoves Bucky before pointing at Peter, “We have a fucking 12-year-old on the team and you’re calling me FRAGILE!”

“Hey…”

“Shut up.”

“He has powers, Doll. You don’t.” Bucky announces annoyed as he pushes his longish dark hair out of his face, “He’s been on the team longer than you too. All I’m saying is he has more experience-”

“WHAT!”

Y/N blurts out in such a deep and powerful tone that Thor looks at her in alarm while slightly raising his hammer. In anger, she then takes a handful of small knives and chuckles them harshly near Bucky. They all hit the white wall behind him, he doesn’t flinch and he doesn’t gain a scratch by her action either. He looks at her bored only making her impossibly more furious. Since she was born she was trained to survive anything and to do anything. Her whole life was about surviving any situation. She never got a day off her whole life until last year when Nick found her and gave her an offer to be a part of the Avengers. Storming toward him with her fist clenched she’s about to throw a punch when he grabs her wrist. When she tries to use her free hand he grabs that one too before she can do any damage to him. He spins her slickly around so her entire back is against his built chest. Lowering his head so his lips are right beside her ear when he whispers in a commanding tone.

“Stop being a drama queen and-”

Not letting him finish Y/N flips him over causing him to fall in front of her onto his back, everyone hears the sound of his back hitting the marble floor. He lays there for a second looking at her for a moment as if he underestimated her strength. With that thought he shakes his head knowing a little girl like her couldn’t be stronger than he’d expect, she’s rather short. The top of her head reaches his shoulder. Not only that but that means she’s been going easy with him in their workouts. They work out every morning and he’s never seen her throw something as heavy as him over her shoulder. Jumping up he turns around back to her with an easy going smile, she has her hip popped out and arms folded. Thor leans near Bruce and whispers into the silence with complete shock.

“I wasn’t informed that Y/N was the Queen of drama.”

“Not now, Thor.”

“Okay, okay, you had your fun.” Bucky sighs tiredly as he struts up to Y/N with a smug look, “You made a scene, flipped me over, so let’s just forget this whole little outburst and grab a beer. Dollface.”

“Don’t. Call. Me. Dollface.” Y/N threatens slowly before tilting her head knowingly and whispering, “HYDRA project.”

Bucky’s posture stiffen, he clenches his fists, his face is unreadable. Everyone in the room has a silent heart attack from Y/N’s cheap shot but he was just a moment ago doing the same thing. Bucky and Y/N face each other with the same dangerous expression. The two have fought plenty of times, usually to let off steam or for bragging rights but this was different. They were actually talking instead of just straight up punching. Their friends honestly didn’t know what to do, they were adults, they’re mature enough to resolve this themselves. Then again they both were mentally and physically messed up. Abruptly Bucky throws all his guns away from his person. A sly smile slips onto Y/N’s face at the gesture, she had just as much power over him as he did over her. Getting into her personal space Bucky tilts his head and whispers.

“You’re such a child.”

“Well, you’re such a cocky prick.”

Her words make him growl lowly while moving closers to her, she takes a few steps back but he takes more forwards. They play this game until Y/N’s back is to the wall and she can’t move. Bucky gazes looks hungry making Y/N question why she picked a fight with him. She always had to pick on with him, she fought with everyone in the Avenger but he was the only one to fight back. Maybe that’s why they were such close friends, she’ll tell him to fuck off and he would break into her room to figure out what’s wrong. She’ll tell him of course and he would do everything to fix it, even if he didn’t fix the problem she would feel 100 times better just by knowing her tried. This is different though, he’s not trying to fix it, it’s almost like he’s egging it on and Y/N’s prideful ass is taking the bait. Tilting his head to the side Bucky rests his hand on either side of Y/N’s head before saying with a smug look.

“At least I don’t pretend I’m not delicate.”

“That’s it!”

“You get Bucky, I’ll get Y/N.”

Tony speaks up instantly to Steve knowing Y/N is thinking irrationally right now. Just as Y/N shoves Bucky away and grabs a vase the guys go over to them in hopes to keep each other from killing one another. She throws the glass vase at Bucky causing him and Steve to duck, it hits the floor near their feet and it breaks into tiny pieces. Tony then grabs her by the arms just for her to flip him over like she did with Bucky earlier. He falls to the floor and she walks over him like he wasn’t even there. A coffee table is in Y/N’s way to Bucky so she easily kicks it out of her way to Bucky. The table slides unknowingly at the Avengers watching them. Some of the moves away and jump over it, Thor uses his hammer to break it and makes it impossible for the broken pieces not to hit his friends around him. Steve who’s pulling Bucky back sees the damage and says for the first time since he’s been frozen.

“Shit.”

Bucky hides a chuckle at the scene in front of him just before Y/N gets to him and punched him in the jaw. His expression goes from shock to mad within a second before pouncing on her. She moves and sweeps his legs before he can tackle her to the ground. He falls and she grabs a glass pot near a couch, she throws it at his laying form. He moves out of the way just a second before it hits the ground and breaks into a million shards. He groans in disbelief because he knows she was really aiming to hit him that time, jumping up he grabs the couch and slides it into her. She falls before she can throw a decorative plant at him. Letting out a heavy breath Buck realizes she’s more pissed than he realized and suddenly asks seriously.

“Are you seriously mad at me calling you delicate?”

“No, Bucky. I’m not mad, I’m just throwing shit for fun.” She growls as she jumps over the couch to get to him, “Of course I’m fucking mad! You’re like my best friend and you treat me like a burden!”

“Doll, you aren’t a burden-”

“Don’t call me that! And don’t you dare lie to me.” She spits out as she shoves him, well, he lets her shove him into the wall behind him, “Ever since I’ve joined you made it your job to baby me and I’ve had it!”

“I baby you because I don’t want you to get hurt!” He spins them around so he has her pinned to the wall as he explains in frustration, “I have not once seen you as some kind of burden to me or to the team.”

“Bullshit! Just admit it!” She barks as she tries to get out of his grasp, “You baby me because you see me as a problem.”

“Dollface… You have it all backward.”

Bucky whispers tiredly as he keeps his hold on Y/N so she won’t punch him. Steve helps Tony stand up behind the two by the wall. They glance at their other friends to make sure they are okay before looking cautiously at Buck and Y/N. Never have has any of them seen the two fight like this, they were always teasing each other or play fighting but never this. The team thought the two were too close to fight this badly. There has to be a more serious reason Y/N’s mad at Bucky, she usually is just annoyed when Bucky is overprotective of her. Maybe she doesn’t see it as being overprotective, maybe she sees Bucky trying to limiting her. That honestly wouldn’t surprise the team, they could tell Bucky likes being in charge of Y/N. Before the team can think any more of this irrational argument they hear Bucky mumble to Y/N so softly that could barely hear it.

“I try to protect you because I couldn’t handle you getting hurt.”

“Well, why don’t you baby Steve!” She fires back not exactly realizing what he meant, “I know you hate when he gets hurt but every time we’re out you-”

“Doll, you’re an exception.”

“It’s because I’m a girl, right? Let me tell you, you sexist-”

“No! For the love of God…”

He groans annoyed before throwing all caution out the window and slamming his lips to hers. She moans in surprise and her eyes go wide just as big as their friends. His hands loosen around her wrist letting her pull loose. Grabbing his shirt in the front aggressively she pulls him closer and shuts her eyes. He sighs in relief before leaning his body on her’s against the wall. One of Bucky’s hands goes to the small of her back to push her bottom half flush on his, this other weaves through her hair. She groans as she wraps her arms around his neck to pull him impossibly closer to her. Bucky begins pulling away from her causing her to follow him needingly. Chuckling Bucky gives her one last kiss before officially pulling away to look down at her. Biting her lip Y/N says breathlessly with the color pink coming to her cheeks.

“Oh… That’s why.”

“Yeah. That’s why, doll face.”

 “Well, well, well…” Their little bubble pops when they hear Tony say in a shit eating grin, “What I’d tell Y'all.”

Steve who’s standing right beside the millionaire playboy sends him an unamused look before punching him in the arm. He then turns to Bucky and gives him an easy wink making him look down to his feet before looking at the woman in his arms. Y/N opens her mouth to say something before the only kid in the room blurts out curiously.

“So who’s cleaning this mess up?”

Bucky and Y/N finally look away from each other, the team does the same and looks around. Everyone in the room realizes then it’s a bigger mess than they would have assumed. The coffee table, vase, and fake plant are broken into hundreds of pieces across the room. A couch and table are flipped over and in a weird position and a hand full of knives are in the wall along with a bunch of weapons scattered on the floor. Awkwardly Bucky and Y/N look back at each other, their little fight might have gotten too out of hand. Bursting out loud laughing the two look at each other like they should have expected this much from one another.